


Tethers

by Lunarflare14



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon, BAMF Lydia Martin, Death References, Derek Feels, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Has Issues, Derek Vs. The 21st Century, Derek's Life Is Hard, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Ghost but not a ghost, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Magical Lydia Martin, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Stiles, Pack Dad Derek Hale, Pre-Slash, Rebuilding the Hale House, Research, Scott is a Good Friend, Slow Build, Spirit World, Spirits, Temporary Character Death, ghost!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarflare14/pseuds/Lunarflare14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles never thought fairies would be his down fall. Now Stiles is kind of forced to “haunt” his friends and Derek is the only one who refuses to let them give up on him. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so sad.</p><p>It doesn’t help that people keep mysteriously drowning either. Turns out Stiles can actually feel more useless.</p><p>“Okay, Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I get it! Weird pack dynamics actually work without me. Can I go home?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If chapter 1 seems a little oddly paced it's because this fic started out as a birthday fic on Tumblr for puppetere's and I sent it in fragments through her ask box.

 

 

It happened when fairies were the monster of the week. Fucking fairies. It wasn't how Stiles thought he’d go that was for sure. For once he hadn't had to research, because fairies had been a problem only a few months before the Hale Fire and Derek had been allowed to help. They were mostly just pranksters, but they liked to prank the pack the most so they had to go. Go figure the time they actually know what to do would be the time that it all went to hell.

The spell to banish the fairies involved sage, deer urine, and a ring of pure iron. Which was gross by the way. The pack, Scott and Stiles had armed themselves with a couple of old iron crowbars. Stiles, of course, was the only one that could probably pull the stupid ritual/spell thing off so that duty fell to him. Well, he probably could have argued that point, but Derek could still probably snap him in half and not in the good way... not that Stiles wanted Derek to snap him in half in the good way.

Anyway, they were in the middle of the woods at midnight and Stiles was chanting in Latin or Fairynese for all he knew as the pack, Allison and Scott stood around him at the ready. They could see the lights that would randomly dance through the trees slowly going out. Derek encouraged Stiles to keep going, sounding excited. Stiles knew it was because a plan was actually working for once. But as it turned out, the fairies weren't too keen on being shoved back into fairyland.

Suddenly, he and Derek were tackled to the ground by seven or eight of the things. Stiles did his best to keep chanting, even with the wind knocked out of him. The ring around the fire was glowing which meant they were almost done. Stiles tried to stand but was shoved hard by another bunch of fairies. His foot caught on the iron ring and he stumbled, falling towards the fire. Stiles saw Derek reaching out to stop him, a look of horror in his eyes, but then it all went black.

When Stiles came back to reality it was quiet. He was on the ground on other side of the fire and unharmed. Everyone was staring at the fire silently. Stiles just kept looking from shocked face to shocked face as he sat up.

"Did it work?" he asked. No one even looked at him. "Guys... you're freaking me out."

Slowly, everyone started to look at Derek. Derek didn't take his eyes off the flames. Scott was the first one to speak. "Where'd he go?"

Stiles frowned. "Where did who go?"

Derek looked up and over at Scott. "He was just..." He trailed off and stepped closer to the fire. Walking around it, Derek seemed to be looking at it from every angle, like if he found just the right view of it he could figure it out.

Stiles stood slowly before following Derek on his next pass around the fire. "Look, Der, calm down a second would you?" Stiles reached out to grab Derek's shoulder. Instead of the dark cotton in his fingers, Stiles' hand went right though. "What the fuck?" Derek stopped walking and looked around but Stiles was only half paying attention. "Am I a ghost? Seriously? Shouldn't I be, like, staring down at my dead body or something-- whoa!" Turning around, Derek pretty much walked right through him, stopping just behind Stiles. "Watch it, alpha boy! I may be incorporeal but I will haunt the shit out of you. So stop."

Derek didn't look at him because yeah, invisible.

Scott stepped forward. "Derek?"

"I don't... he's not here," was Derek's intelligent reply.

The pack all exchanged looks and Allison made her way over to Scott. Erica moved closer to Boyd, looking uncertain.  They met half way. The obviously growing romance would be cute if Stiles was solid. Derek’s eyes were on the fire, like he could stare it into giving Stiles back.

"Do you think the fairies took him?" Everyone looked to Boyd. While he wasn’t a man of many words, the ones he mustered were always quality.

Derek's brows furrowed. "You can't just take a human to their realm. It would be such a shock to the system that Stiles would be--" Derek stopped talking as the idea sunk in. "But that is not what happened."

Scott squeezed Allison’s hand. “I’m gonna have to tell his dad.”

Everyone, even Derek, looked at Scott. “I’ll come with you.”

Scott’s laugh sounded broken and Stiles wished he could hug him. “Because that is a good idea.”

“It’s my fault. We’ll tell him together. Tell him the truth.” Derek seemed to be only just holding it together and shit. Derek thought this was his fault. Well it was a little his fault but Derek was brooding with guilt already from the rest of the shit that went down in his life. And holy shit, his Dad was going to break down.

“Whoa, I am not gone, I’m right here. Don’t you let them give up on me, Der. You're supposed to be the leader! Reason with them!” No one could hear him and it was getting frustrating—being there but not at the same time.

The group didn't say anything after that. Derek put out the fire, and they all migrated back towards the cars. Derek gave his keys to Isaac and the pack piled in the Camaro. Allison, Scott and Derek went for his Jeep. "Wait, Scott, no. I don't care if I'm dead or invisible or whatever I will not have your paws on my baby." Derek made his way to the front and soon after it turned on. "The son of a bitch hot-wired my jeep! I've been gone five minutes!"

Realistically Stiles knew they couldn't just leave his car in the middle of the woods. It wasn't their fault his keys were in his pocket when he pulled a Houdini. He wanted to just stay in the woods. He didn't want to see his dad's face or watch them mourn him. But as Allison and Scott slid into the back, Stiles felt a tug--a need to go with them. He was debating how to ride along without being able to open the door when he was suddenly in the passenger's seat. "I can teleport? Nifty."

When they got to Stiles' house, he imagined himself to the porch while he waited for everyone else to catch up. "I'm going to miss this teleporting thing if you guys ever figure out I'm not dead-dead."

Stiles would hold onto the hope he wasn't really dead until they found a body. Scott knocked on the front door. Stiles dad was actually home tonight but he thought Stiles was at Scott's. This wasn't going to end well. Stiles stood with his friend, unseen but unable to let him face it alone.

The door opened, his father looked like he'd just woken up. When he saw the three of them fear crossed his face. "Where's Stiles?"

Scott took a deep breath and his voice came out crack. "It's a long story... one that you might want to be sitting down for."

Stiles' dad only nodded and they all headed for the living room. There was a glass on the coffee table and Stiles frowned. Then again his dad would probably need that drink after this talk. "You going to finally tell me what's been going on?"

They all sat down, and Derek took point. "This is going to be hard to believe, but you need to know. So just, brace yourself for a second." The expression on his dad's face was skeptic. But he sat back and waited. When Derek transformed Stiles' swore his father had been close to shitting himself.

"What the hell, kid?"

"I'm a werewolf. The whole Hale family was for the most part..."

Scott chimed in. "Back when you guys found Laura? She was killed by his uncle, Peter. He wanted to be Alpha."

"Wait, the guy who was catatonic?" Yeah, Stiles supposed he should have known his dad knew about that. He was one of the cops who had worked the Hale Fire.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, except it drove him crazy and he bit Scott."

"Wait, Scott's a werewolf?"

Scott nodded this time. "That's why Stiles was caught up in all this supernatural shit that's been going down. It happened when we went out in the wood to look for Laura's body."

His dad picked up his drink and drank it. "This is a lot to take in. Wait... what do you mean was?"

Derek looked at the floor. “Tonight we were expelling fairies from town. Stiles preformed the spell while we protected him. He fell across the spell circle and… disappeared. He’s missing.”

Stiles dad ran a hand across his face. “Did they take him?”

“If they did… he’d be either concussed or comatose in the fairy realm. He’d need help immediately and we have no way to reach him.”

Stiles had never seen his dad look so scared in all his life. What was weird was Derek looked about the same.

“The spell takes a finesse none of us has. I would need a proper witch. Stiles only worked because he’s a spark. Not a full magic user… but something. I need to research it; make sure that is what happened and find something to bring him back.”

Oh God, Derek was forming some kind of plan. His plans never worked. Besides, Stiles was most definitely not in the fairy world if he was watching them plot. If Derek was taking the lead, Stiles was dead for sure if he wasn't already. Life had been so much easier without magic.

Stiles dad was smiling sadly as he started to shake. “She always said he was special… And all this time he was dealing with this and lying to protect ME.” He met Derek’s eyes and stared the alpha down. “How long would he have?”

Derek looked away first. “If that is what happened to him?... Maybe a couple days. According to all the info I’ve got time doesn’t work the same in the Fae.” Wow, so his chances were shit. That was always good to know. Derek the Blunt. Always a comfort.

The sheriff buried his head in his hands. That was when Derek stood abruptly and knelt next to him. "I am not giving up on him. He's alive. I know it." There was a certainty there that Stiles had never heard before, well, not directed at him. John looked up to meet Derek's eyes.

"What if you don't find a way soon?"

"I keep looking for a way. Stiles is smart and strong. He'd find a way to survive there." Derek meant that and Stiles smiled sadly, because obviously not. Way to give him a vote of confidence now, sourwolf.

It gave his dad some comfort, so Stiles decided to just be grateful. Hope could be dangerous if he really was dead and a ghost. This sucked royally, not knowing what the hell was going on. Typical. He couldn't just be allowed to pass on. He had to watch their mad scramble to rescue him. Stiles hated everything. Stiles’ dad stood then and so did Derek. “This is really crazy, Hale. Beyond crazy.”

“I know… I’m sorry.” Derek looked at the floor and Stiles remembered that he was, what? Twenty one?

His dad put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Get him back.”

“Yes, Mr. Stilinski.”

“If you need anything, you let me know. Who’s your point of contact on this?”

Derek bit his lip, uncertain. “Deaton--at the vets office. He’s a kind of… medicine man.”

That was one way of putting it. The sheriff took that in stride. “I’ll put out a missing persons. We’ll start a search. I have to go be the frantic worried father. You do what you’ve got to. And don't think this is the last of it. I expect a full account of everything that's been going on once Stiles is found."

Derek and Scott nodded together. They all moved towards the door and Stiles turned and stepped right through Allison. He’d forgotten she was there, quietly hovering in the background. When Scott passed she took his hand. Eyes meeting they walked out together in silence. Derek turned and headed towards town, not looking back. This time when they left Stiles didn’t feel the tug he did in the woods. His dad was pulling on his sheriff jacket and getting in his police car, cell phone already to his ear.

Stiles teleported to his room just to have something to do. Looking around his room suddenly made him feel exhausted. He wondered if he could sleep, being a ghost. It was unlikely, but why not, right? The real trick would be not falling through the mattress. He concentrated on being on his bed. The teleport thing apparently worked for that too. It didn’t feel soft and he didn’t sink into it, but he was on it and that was some kind of victory. Laying back, he closed his eyes and tried to let his mind slip away. It wasn’t long before he felt the familiar lull in his mind that was drifting off.

Suddenly he was in anguish. “Holy fucking sweet Jesus—” The blasphemies came out in one long slew. Every inch of his body screamed and he wasn’t on his bed. He was in a leaf bed and a cold hand pressed to his forehead.

He sat upright and found himself back in his room. “What the hell just happened?”

Stiles didn’t dare fall asleep again… just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles practiced teleporting around his house and pretending to be solid for a couple hours before he got bored. It was pretty easy from what he could gather. But he couldn’t seem to teleport beyond the front gate of the house. It was weird. Guess being a spirit had limits. That was sad. He had wanted to teleport somewhere like France or Las Vegas or a strip club. It may have just been that he was not familiar enough with those places, but it felt deeper than that. He couldn’t teleport across the street or outside the fence even. It wasn’t long before he was trying to see how far he could push the teleporting. He’d followed Scott, Derek and Allison to his house. Maybe he could teleport to someone he knew.

Stiles had nothing but time to test it out.

It was simple enough concentrating on Scott, on being next to Scott. That was a pretty constant state for Stiles. Next thing Stiles knew he was in Scott’s room standing next to Scott’s bed.

His best friend had his face buried in the crook of Allison’s neck. It was obvious he had been there a while. Allison just ran her hand through his hair aimlessly—her eyes rimmed red like she had been crying.

Stiles needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Stiles decided to check in on his dad. It seemed like a safe bet since he should be at the station. In an instant, Stiles was next to John. He had a map of Beacon Hills spread out on the desk in front of him. That his dad was treating this like a real search was probably just a distraction from the whole ‘my son was taken by magic’ thing. The tension in his shoulders said it all, how futile he knew these efforts were and how he could care less because it was something to do. When your kid is missing, you’re expected to search like a mad man until you find them.

The sheriff looked tired. Stiles had hoped this would be less painful then Scott. If all went well, which it never did but IF it did, he’d be home soon.

Stiles wondered how Derek’s research was going.

Suddenly, he was at the vets office and, frick, he hadn’t meant to do that. The place was obviously closed, but Derek and Deaton were huddled around an examination table covered in books. Both of them were reading from separate books frantically. For a moment Stiles wondered why they hadn’t asked Scott or the rest of the pack or Scott to join in the search through the old and dusty looking texts. The mental image of that many werewolves in one closed in space was his answer. Stiles went to Derek’s side and read over his shoulder.

It was a book on the fairy courts. Go figure. If the aggression in the page flipping was any indication, Derek was not finding what he was looking for.

Deaton’s phone went off and Derek jumped. They both stopped their search as Deaton answered it. “Holly? Thank goodness, do you have something?”

Derek and Stiles watched intently as Deaton hummed recognition over the phone. At one point both their faces were grave and Stiles knew it was bad, whatever news they just got.

“No.” Derek said finally. Deaton shook his head. “We can’t wait that long. He’ll be dead.”

Deaton hung his head. “I’m sorry, Derek. Holly knows these things better than anyone I know. If she says the door won’t open again until Litha, she means it.”

“What gives Holly such authority on fairies?”

By the expression on Deaton’s face, he was having none of Derek’s shit. “She’s half fairy.” The exasperation in the room could be cut with a knife. “There are more than those sprites in the Fae. He could have been picked up by a more benevolent spirit. You need to calm down. I know the boy was pack—“

Derek bared his teeth. “Shows what you know. Stiles doesn’t want to be part of the pack. He’s with Scott.” The clinic went silent because Derek had a point. If Deaton looked confused well Stiles wasn’t going to blame him. Derek sighed running a hand down his face. “I’m still responsible for them when we’re fighting together. I still...”

Deaton seemed to get it after that, and so did Stiles. After everything, Derek didn’t want to lose someone else, even if it was just the hyperactive sidekick.

“I am going to keep looking. Mind if I…?” Derek gestured to the books on the table and Deaton nodded.

“Take them, all of them.”

Derek began to pile the books together neatly as he pulled out his phone. He cradled it on his shoulder as he gathered up the sources. Stiles wondered if there was a method to it because it really needed better organization. Some kind of filing system perhaps?

“Isaac? Bring the car over to the clinic. I’ve got some stuff I’m taking up to the house. Yeah, Erica and Boyd don’t need to come… just get over here.” He hung up roughly and Deaton brought out a couple of bags for Derek to carry it all in. “Thanks.”

“You couldn’t have predicted this, Derek. It isn’t your fault.” The vet stared Derek down, but he wasn’t having it.

Stiles flailed. “Yes! Thank you! Oh my gosh, someone needed to say it. He’s such a martyr.”

“Either way, I’m going to get him back.”

Deaton nodded as Derek took the bags full of books with him. Stiles felt that tug again—the urge to follow even though he didn’t really want to, and shit, fine. Following Derek was better than nothing. At least he didn’t think Stiles was already dead.

Isaac pulled up in the Camaro not long after they stepped outside. The whole time Derek was this nervy, twitchy mess. Constantly looking around like he didn’t know what to expect, so he just stayed on this edge. Stiles never saw Derek like this. Even when everything was falling apart Derek did his best to be in control. Watching Derek fidget like he couldn’t help it was weird.

The alpha being on edge put Isaac on edge right away and the whole ride to the Hale house was just one awkward fidget fest while Stiles rolled his eyes in the backseat.

Derek needed to calm down or the whole pack would be this way. Erica and Boyd being jumpy usually meant the destruction of property. He was pretty sure that their parents couldn’t afford that.

When they pulled up to the charred shell of Derek’s childhood the werewolves piled out and Stiles teleported to the porch to wait for them. Still the most awesome thing ever—thinking of it and BAM! There.

Turned out that Derek had some weird blanket nest at the old Hale House that he curled up in with all the books he took from Deaton. Isaac had a thing set up in the back, some kind of cot/blow up mattress.

“Ugh, I’m going to go crazy not being able to touch stuff.”

As per the usual, Derek didn’t react to what he said. Oddly enough, he did start leaving books open on interesting pages when he was done with them so it kept Stiles a little entertained.

The sun started coming up and it occurred to Stiles that Derek hadn’t slept. “Dude, you should get some sleep. Even I slept during long nights of research.” Derek rubbed his eyes and blinked hard. “Yeah, even werewolves got to get some shut eye, Der-bear.”

Stiles had huffed in frustration when suddenly Derek closed the book and slumped back into his bed nest thing with obvious reluctance.  How was it Stiles was winning more battles when his side of the argument couldn’t be heard?

It was fascinating. The werewolf was always tense when he was awake, always irritated and angry. Isaac has said the anger was his anchor, which couldn’t be healthy. When he was asleep all the muscles on Derek’s face relaxed.

It shouldn’t be allowed to be that attractive. There should be laws. It irritated Stile to no end. It occurred to Stiles just a little late that watching Derek sleep was creepy… maybe he could go watch Lydia sleep.

Stiles waited for the shift but it never came. He was still in Derek’s room. How was that even fair? He tried again. Why couldn’t he go to Lydia? He worshipped Lydia and the horse she road in on. That made him wonder who else he could follow if couldn’t follow her.

Was it like teleporting to the gate but not going beyond it to the sidewalk? It was sidewalk he walked on every day. It should be in his range but his spirit form just… couldn’t go there.  Not without an escort.

The whole affair was starting to look way more complicated then Stiles liked.

“Well Derek, apparently I’ve grown attached. Or maybe you’re attached to me. Didn’t know you cared.”

The corners of Derek’s mouth twitched upward and how Sixth Sense was that?

“I’m gonna... go home. Let you sleep. I’ll check up on you tomorrow.”

“Sorry…” Derek breathed out, barely audible. It could have been a sigh.

“I know you are. But seriously, for once you had a solid plan. You couldn’t have known.”

Why was he talking to Derek so much anyway? Seriously, he needed to get his shit together.

“Sleep well, big guy. I… got places to be.”

He concentrated on his room and was at his bed again. It had that just before dawn quality to it, where the shadows were light because they’re just beginning to appear. He felt heavy, almost like he weighed something. Like this was the closest he was too himself. Which made sense—his room was where he ran too when he wanted to be safe. The sound of the front door rang through the house. Stiles teleported to his Dad’s side as he was hanging up his jacket.

The man looked like hell. “You need to go to bed. Seriously.” Stiles tried to shove his father, wondering if he’d feel the nudge towards his room. He didn’t get an outward reaction from him. Instead, his father moved towards the kitchen. “You’d better not be going for the—damn it; you know you shouldn’t be drinking.” His father sat at the table and poured a glass. “You are not doing this. I—I won’t allow it. I’m coming back. You’d better stop or I’ll…” He picked it up but didn’t take a drink, he just stared at it. “Come on, Dad.” Stiles knew it was for naught but he had to try. His dad would have to decide it on his own not too drink it.

But John did eventually put the drink down. He walked back to the sink and poured it out before heading up to bed. Maybe they couldn’t hear him, but at least what he had drilled into his dad was still working.

“I love you, Dad. Don’t give up… On me, or on life if I don’t come back. I don’t care if you can hear me or not, you know that’s what I’d want.”

Stiles wondered, if he waited for his dad to go to bed, if he could talk to him. Derek had seemed to hear him.

But his dad came back down stares in pajamas and sat down in front of the TV instead. Stiles was grateful for the distraction. This way he didn’t have to be a creeper over someone’s shoulder to be entertained. 

He didn’t try to talk to his dad again but the older man seemed to actually relax after a bit. Whatever thoughts he’d been having seemed to ease the tension in him, and he fell asleep Stiles came closer. “I’m alright, Dad. I’m watching over you. Get some sleep.”

His dad smiled a little and Stiles felt better.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles nearly forgot about school. It completely slipped his mind it was Monday until he heard his alarm clock go off in the middle of the Top Gear marathon his dad had fallen asleep watching. The cool thing about being a ghost was you didn’t get tired. Sleep was apparently an option, not a necessity. He debated going until it was about time for class to start. When Stiles got to school the rest of the teens were there. All of them were looking appropriately dismal about Stiles being gone. Turned out that Stiles got signal at Beacon Hills High… the teleporting kind anyway. He could Apparate around it freely like when he was at his house. And what did he do?

He went to his classes because finals were next week and when he got back, he wanted to breeze through the work he was going to have to make up. Lunch came and Stiles went out of habit. Scott was already there, tray loaded up with the usual. It was good to see his friend was still eating.

Once Scott had paid he turned, looking at their usual spot as he walked past it and to the pack’s table. Stiles saw them all exchange looks before eating in silence.

Of course, after his death Scott would want to be part of their ragtag group.

The click of high heels on the lunch room tile was their only warning. A flash of red hair and bam, she smacked her hand onto the pack’s table—the glorious Lydia Martin. She eyed all of them before sitting down. “Alright, I let the ‘Jackson is a giant lizard and now a werewolf’ thing go. But now Stiles is missing and you all obviously know something we don’t because you’re acting like he’s already dead. You promised to stop keeping me out of the loop and what do you all do?”

Erica set her eyes on Lydia, standing to lean over the table. “It doesn’t concern you.” The blond looked rough. Her hair wasn’t perfect like it usually was. There was light smudging to her makeup and… was that a twig in her hair? She looked about to lunge across the table at Lydia.

Lydia wasn’t fazed. “Tell me what happened to him, or werewolf or not I will ruin you, Erica Reyes.” Before Erica could swipe her with her nails Boyd took her hand. The blonde looked back at him with watery eyes and she sat down curling herself into Boyd’s side. Lydia watched with a look of growing concern. “Is he…?”

They all looked around at each other, before Isaac met her eyes. “He fell into the spell circle while we were expelling fairies from the town. When humans pass into the fairy world, it pretty much fries their system. The spell closed us off to the fairy world so now Stiles is stuck there, probably critically injured. Whether or not he liked it, Stiles was always considered pack by us. It’s like losing a limb, Lydia. We literally can do nothing.” Isaac, sincere, sensitive Isaac, was staring down the most terrifying girl in school with a scary calm. “So forgive us if we aren’t up to fucking talking about it.”

They all looked at Isaac as if they were seeing him for the first time. Lydia seemed stunned. Several attempts at words came from her but she stopped almost immediately after. Stiles was feeling a similar reaction. That had been… well Stiles had no illusions about the fact he was kind of a dick, but to be that important to the pack was a little overwhelming.

Lydia looked down at her hands that were in her lap. “So, if he isn’t dead yet…”

“He probably will be soon.” Boyd’s voice was hushed as he stroked Erica’s hair. The blonde looked like she wanted to break something and clinging to Boyd was the only thing that kept her from tearing the cafeteria apart.

Everyone sat in silence as the rest of the school bustled around them. They were getting looks from their fellow students because word about Stiles disappearance probably reached them too. Allison arrived and hurried over to the table to join Scott, sliding in beside him. He wrapped his arms snuggly around her. The lunch attendants must have known because such PDAs were usually frowned up. They all knew Stiles though, and they knew who he… ran with (they did most of the running; what he did was more like flailing).

Lydia lifted her eyes to Boyd’s after several long minutes. “What’s Derek doing about it?”

“Trying to find a way around what the spell did. It won’t break ‘til the summer solstice. We don’t have the three weeks to wait.”

Lydia nodded. Jackson walked up to the table and sat next to Lydia, handing her a lunch tray. He didn’t say anything as Danny followed soon after. Jackson had been more of pseudo-pack since his true love concurs all moment with Lydia. Stiles rolled his eyes. “I love how my disappearance has brought you all together. It’s touching really. This is the stuff after schools specials are made of.”

They all ate in a silence that was actually pretty companionable. Okay, Erica didn’t eat so much as brood, preferring to stay curled up into Boyd’s side with a slow boiling look of barely contained anguish and rage. Her control had always been bad, if throwing Stiles into a dumpster was any indication.

Jackson almost looked sad. Almost. He had the expressivity of Edward Cullen so the fact that he was almost conveying some kind of emotion spoke volumes. Danny kept looking at the werewolves with obvious concern. Stiles was pretty sure Danny knew all about the werewolf stuff going on. He sat behind Scott and Stiles in chemistry and they weren’t exactly quiet. That and Jackson is the kind of friend who’d inform his bestie to the weird supernatural things going on.

When the bell for lunch rang the others stood to leave. “I want to help.” Lydia announced. Her eyes moved from werewolf to werewolf and waited. “So… let me know, alright? Whatever you guys need.”

Jackson gave them a short nod that Stiles was pretty sure meant ‘what the woman said’.

Isaac walked away with tense shoulders, not even looking at her. Stiles didn’t even know Isaac cared. Or Lydia.

Boyd nodded. “I’ll give Derek your number.”

This seemed to satisfy Lydia and she went to empty her tray.

Why did Boyd have Lydia’s number? Stiles didn’t even have Lydia’s number!

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Well, Stiles wasn’t sure if it did or if time just moved weird while he was a ghost. The whole ordeal with watching them tell his dad felt like it had passed by really quickly. Lunch had felt like it dragged on. Ghost stuff just kept getting weirder and weirder.

After school the pack all assembled at the old Hale house. They gathered outside like a herd of uneasy pups, and Stiles wished they could hear him crack bad dog jokes to ease the tension. It was Scott who got the nerve to go inside first, followed by Isaac.

Derek was in the living room on an old beat up couch and surrounded by three piles of books.

Their eyes met and held. Scott and Derek didn’t even breathe for the next couple of seconds. Then, slowly, Scott looked away with a sigh. “I want to be part of the pack.”

Derek rubbed a hand through his hair. “Do you want to be part of the pack or are you just so worried about Stiles you need something to distract you?”

He sounded almost like that gay guy who gave advice to the Giving Tree on YouTube. As funny as that mental image was, Derek had a legitimate concern. Stiles had to think it was the latter.

Scott shook his head. “No, I really want to be a part of it. I—“ He looked around. “Let’s pretend. Say I joined up, day one, when you became alpha. The more you have in a pack the calmer and stronger you are right?”

Derek nodded.

“So you wouldn’t have been power tripping as much if I had joined? Might have actually, oh, I don’t know, NOT tried to turn Jackson?”

Isaac shifted closer to Scott. Erica and Boyd just looked at each other. The alpha sighed. “You don’t know—“

“No wait, let’s keep going. Then you would have still probably recruited them right?” He waved to the others behind him. “So you’d have been stronger? Without having Jackson’s imbalance they’d have been stronger, if it were me and not Jackson. So when those fucking fairies invaded our town right? We’d have been a unit then. Isaac wouldn’t have been on the fence and you wouldn’t have had the craziness of the kanima shit to deal with. So we’d have all been solid. Together. A team. And it’s all because I didn’t join the pack!” Scott’s voice cracked and Derek stood, coming forward. Stiles was shocked at the next few events that unfolded. Derek took Scott into a full bear hug.

Derek Hale.

Hugged.

Scott McCall.

Stiles was surprised Derek knew how to hug let alone engaged someone in a hug. Then again Derek has had a hard on for Scott being his wolf-bro since the beginning.

In Derek’s defense his whole family did die in a fire that was set by his psycho girlfriend and left him nearly completely alone in the world. It was about fucking time someone gave the bastard a hug.

No one else seemed to think this was the weirdest thing they had ever witnessed. In fact, the rest of them came forward and joined.

Fuck.

Fuck Stiles with pine cones and call him a Christmas tree. They all actually gave a shit about him. Scott Stiles already knew about but the pack? “It’s okay, Scott. It’s okay.” Derek whispered into Scott’s hair. “It’s not anyone’s fault.”

Stiles nodded. “Damn straight. Get down off the cross, Scott, somebody needs the wood. And you guys are going to figure out I’m not dead and you’ll all feel stupid. I’ll be back to making tasteless jokes in no time and you’ll wonder what you ever got so upset about.”

They didn’t completely disengage when they were done hugging. They all just kind of sprawled out on the floor, looking a little less ragged, all kind of touching just a little (except Erica and Boyd who were pretty much plastered together). Stiles watched, fascinated. This was more cuddling than Stiles thought the pack capable of. It must have been a wolf thing. Scott finally found words after a few minutes of having his head pillowed on Isaac’s stomach. “Don’t you have an apartment in town?”

Derek didn’t sit up to look at Scott, electing to stare at the ceiling. “It’s hard to think there. Out here it’s quiet. I’ve been reading up on fairies. There really is no way in until midsummer. On the upside, I found out that there may be a way for us to get drunk.”

Scott gave a watery laugh. “On what?”

“Absinthe. Witches made it as a way of communicating with fairies or something.” The pack nuzzled further into the pile. “So when you guys hit twenty one, it’s going to be hilarious.”

Stiles could not wait to see it. “That is going to be awesome.”

Erica finally pried her face out of Boyd’s chest. “What do you mean twenty one?”

“I’m the alpha, not your personal rumrunner. You want to drink underage, you find someone else to pilfer it for you.” Stiles could see what Derek was trying to do. The jokes were more lighthearted then Derek had ever been. They had never lost one of their own before…. Stiles was one of their own.

How come they were like this only after he was dead?… well not dead.

Hopefully not dead.

Derek’s face suddenly fell, and fell hard. Like it hit him the same time it hit Stiles.

He was dead, wasn’t he?

Oh God. “I’m dead.” Derek’s face fixed itself before the pack could see it. “Now I’m stuck in this weird purgatory, doomed to watch you guys live your lives without me. That’s what this is.” Stiles knew if he were in his body he’d be having a panic attack. He wished he could get a hug.

He really needed a hug. It looked like the pack gave awesome hugs.

Derek ran his hands over his face and stood. “Alright, who is up for a run and killing something small and furry?”

Erica popped up. “In.”

Scott sighed. “Don’t see why not.”

Isaac perked up as much as a mourning werewolf could, and Boyd followed them.

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to follow. When they left and the tug didn’t happen he realized he had reception at the Hale house… and wasn’t that sad?

Nothing like finding out who your friends are after the fact.

He wandered around the place with a freedom that he didn’t have when alive.

(UGH HE WAS SO PISSED ABOUT ACCEPTING HIS DEATH LIKE WHAT THE HELL FAIRIES GOD STILES JUST WANTED TO PUNCH SOMETHING BUT HE’D JUST GO RIGHT THROUGH IT HOW STUPID WAS THAT ANYWAY THIS WAS SO MESSED UP)

The house really needed some sanding and painting and… all new walls.

Derek should fix the place up; several bedrooms and bath rooms, a sizable family room, a study, a dining room and a den.

Ha, den. Werewolves. He had a long eternity with himself okay? If dog jokes stopped being funny it would be even longer.

It could fit them all. Like a big club house. Stiles could be the ghost in residence.

Maybe this was like Supernatural? When Bobby (rest his soul) became a ghost and couldn’t do a lot of cool shit at first? Yeah, that was totally it… hopefully the vengeful part didn’t happen. Maybe he just needed to hone his skills.

Stiles concentrated on one of the books in Derek’s stack. He focused every bit of his attention on it, on it moving just a quarter of an inch.

After about ten minutes of that, Stiles couldn’t do it anymore. The bastard wasn’t moving.

“God damn it!” Stiles went to kick the table and went right through it. He stopped and stared at it. Silently stewing in his anger.

He was really dead.

Fuck.

He ran his hands over his ghostly face. It just wasn’t fair. Why was he still here? Did the universe hate him that much?

The pack came back just as it was getting dark, looking completely exhausted (which would not last long). They were even smiling a bit and laughing softly at the state of Erica’s hair. There was some blood, but it was probably from a rabbit or a deer or something. They collapsed on the couch into their little heap again.

Stiles heart clenched. Scott had finally run with the pack—literally. It was the first time since his disappearance that Scott didn’t look quite so broken.

“I always liked him,” Erica whispered after the smiles had faded. “He was smart and funny… if a bit of an asshole. I think it was a defense though. I mean, you saw how much he really cared about Scott and Lydia and his dad… I both hated it and wanted him to care about me like that.”

Scott laughed. “He cared, just… not as much I suppose. You were causing him increasing amounts of bodily harm.”

She shrugged. “It’s hard when pack are human too... he was always saving our asses.”

Derek nodded.

Just then, the door swung open with a slow, dramatic creak. Peter walked in, all suave and menacing. “Hello children. Fine day, wouldn’t you say?”

Derek glared as the pack all instinctively moved minutely closer to their alpha.

Stiles was in awe. They NEVER were this in sync before.

The edges of Derek’s eyes were turning a bit red and that was new, mostly contained alpha instinct and all. “Where have you been?”

The older werewolf frowned at them. “Las Vegas. Did I… miss something?” He gestured to the lot of them.

“What do you care if you did?”

“It interrupted my trip, that’s why. Sometimes werewolf instinct is hard to ignore. But I passed Jackson in town and the rest of them are here and accounted for so I’m assuming all is well.”

Derek stood and stalked forward towards his uncle, who took a tiny step back.

It was like they were in Mirror-verse or something because that was a move of submission if Stiles ever saw one. Derek stopped in front of Peter but just as Derek looked like he was going to murder his uncle all over again… he stopped. His eyes went back to their normal green, and he ran a hand over his face.

Peter looked shocked, as he looked around Derek and did a head count. “Oh… Well that is unfortunate. But the good news is you finally seem to have put the lid on the alpha instinct. That is common for alphas that aren’t first in line to inherit it. It takes a loss.”

That made a kind of sense to Stiles. Derek had been a power hungry asshole ever since becoming alpha. This Derek was cuddling with pack and hugging people like it was no big deal. It was totally a big deal. It should go down in history as the biggest deal that ever occurred.

All it took was Stiles dying. Stiles dying meant that much to Derek.

Wow.

Derek took a deep breath before he said,“You are staying closer to home. No more wondering off.”

Peter actually pouted. “Damn it, you don’t even have to use the alpha voice anymore. Keep giving me orders and I might just rebel and kill you.”

Derek grabbed the front of Peter’s shirt, the smallest bit of the wolf creeping into his features. “Listen, old man. I lost pack to the Fae doing a ritual you found for us back in the old days. You’re sticking around so you can help get him back.”

Peter laughed, and immediately stopped when Derek’s eyes glowed a constant red. “Wish I could help but unless he’s become a mage or witch or something in my absence, your little _spark_ has probably already gone out. The veil here has always been thin. The Hale family took up the job of reinforcing it. The spell tears down the old patch and puts up a new one in its place. While the patch sets it’s nearly impossible to get through.”

Derek let Peter go and ran a hand over his face again. Must have been a tick or something. “I knew that already.”

“Then I suggest you let go of the idea that you’ll find anything but a corpse on the other side.”

Derek shook his head. “I can’t… Not yet.”

For a moment, silence fell and Stiles was sure Peter was actually considering giving Derek a hug.

Definitely Mirrorverse.

“For what it’s worth I liked the boy’s fire. I offered him the bite once. Wouldn’t take it. Didn’t even smell like a lie when he said he didn’t want it. Looking back it’s probably for the best that I didn’t give it to him. Imagine that mind with werewolf brawn for a moment and tell me it isn’t a bit terrifying.”

Stiles laughed. “Almost sounds like you’ve got a bit of a creeper crush on me, Pete.”

It took Stiles a minute to realize Derek was absolutely furious because the idea of Peter being a tiny bit afraid of him was refreshing. It wasn’t every day that someone acknowledged what he was capable of.

So forgive him if he didn’t turn right away to see Derek obviously holding back the urge to kill.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. You’re just mad that I even considered touching your precious human.” But Peter rolled his neck in an obvious ploy to cover exposing his neck in submission.

Peter was actually being compliant.

Stiles looked to the ceiling and yelled, “Okay, Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I get it! Weird pack dynamics actually work without me. Can I go home? Or at least get on with dying now?”

But no weird hooded reaper came for him. Peter actually came in and parked himself on the floor near the pack pile, mumbling something about pups.

At least someone would continue the dog jokes in his memory.

Suddenly Derek threw his head back and howled, low and sad. It echoed through the house. There was no reply and Stiles wondered what that was supposed to accomplish.

Derek howled again. The pack joined in, even Peter but he joined with some reluctance. Stiles recalled what he’d learned about howling; assembling, locating and communicating with pack…

They were howling for Stiles.

And even if Stiles answered they wouldn’t hear him. Couldn’t hear him.

Stiles threw back his head and gave his best howl anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

The pack’s howl-fest ended and they all began to leave, except Peter and Derek.

Peter stayed on the floor, watching the younger werewolves disperse with mild interest. Scott was the last to go, standing in the doorway with uncertainty in his posture. Derek ruffled Scott’s hair lightly. “See you at the next training meet up? It’s Friday.”

The tension eased in Scott’s shoulders. “Yeah. I’ll be there.” It might have been that it was posed as a request that Scott was comfortable with it. That it was a request had Stiles almost alarmed; Derek didn’t normally request things of the pack, especially Scott. When Derek shut the door behind his new beta, his shoulders slumped and he turned back to where his uncle was sitting.

Peter smirked. “You’re so cuddly now. It’s fascinating. Gonna start packing their lunches? Picking them up from lacrosse practice?” Derek glared and Peter rolled his eyes. “You are zero fun.”

“Did you see them? They don’t need me barking orders.”

The older werewolf stood up and stretched. Sometimes Stiles forgot that Peter had muscles to spare like damn. Derek didn’t seem as impressed and if Stiles were Derek he probably wouldn’t be… that and it was his uncle. Peter rolled his shoulders with a content sigh. “It’s your pack. Lead them how you want. Your mother was that way; caring and warm fuzzies.”

It was like Peter realized what he said only after it left his mouth. Stiles had never heard them talk about the Hale family much, not the deceased ones anyway. There was a vague memory of a vibrant woman who his mother talked too. But as with most children, he didn’t pay much attention to his mother’s friends. Mama Hale had been at her funeral, and she had hugged him.

It was a couple years until the fire but… he never spoke to her again.

Stiles was more than a little mad that he couldn’t ask them if they wanted to talk about it. He wanted to know what she was like, what they were all like. More so, he wanted the subject to stop making Derek look so haunted.

Ha, ghost jokes; Stiles had them.

He wished he could crack a joke and break the weird tension that formed in the living room.

Peter sighed. “I’ve been telling you, the only way to lead a pack is with heart.” When Derek didn’t reply, he sighed again, but this time with extra dramatic effect. “I’m heading to my apartment. You can hang out here if you want. Your life, not mine...” He started towards the door and paused with his hand on the knob. “I never blamed you, kid. Never.”

The door shut behind Peter and Stiles swore the noise echoed through the house dramatically.

Stiles snorted. “Wow, he is just like Shakespeare in motion. I wonder if he pays a guy. You think he does stuff like…wait to open the door ‘til lightning is flashing behind him or does nature just bend itself to accommodate him?”

The empty house creaked around them as the wind blew. Derek did a slow turn towards the empty living room and looked around. He took one breath, then another, and at first that wasn’t weird—people breath all the time. After the breathing got harder and louder Stiles realized what was happening— the wolf was coming out.

“Derek, calm down. Deep breath— in and out. Remember your anchor? What was yours? Brooding? Come on. Oh shit!” Derek stalked towards the nearest wall and punched through it. Then he scratched and clawed at the walls, the ceiling and the floor. “Derek, you’re starting to freak me out a little. You want to turn down the blood rage?”

But all Derek did was continue his path of destruction. It was like he wanted to tear the whole place down with his bare hands, board by board until there was nothing left. It was scary to see Derek like that—completely out of control.

“Goddamnit!” Derek threw one last punch at the wall and it felt like the whole house shook. Eventually the werewolf’s breathing evened out and he pressed his forehead against the wall.

Stiles wished he could do something. Anything.

“Look at the mess you’ve made.”

Slowly Derek turned and did look. The place was a wreck. Derek let out one last long breath, a hollow sounding sigh, before he suddenly walked briskly into the kitchen.

“What are you—“

But before Stiles finished the question Derek returned with a trash bin and broom.

It was both fascinating and bewildering as Stiles watched Derek pick up the pieces of wood and sweep up the dust. The living room slowly returned to as close to a neat state as it could (being a mostly abandoned building and all). When he finished Derek looked around with satisfaction at the clean room. You wouldn’t know that a mere fifteen minutes prior he wolfed out and ripped the living room a new one.

Stiles looked around, impressed. “Derek, I don’t think years of therapy will ever sort you out.” But when Stiles turned to look at Derek again, the wolf was gone. Outside, the Camaro revved to life and Stiles teleported to the passenger’s seat. “So where are we headed?” Of course, Derek didn’t give a reply. The radio blared the local rock station from his speakers as they sped through the woods towards town. When he finally slowed down, they rolled up to Home Depot. “What?”

Once inside, Derek located an employee and just started buying shit. Everything you could possibly need—lumber, nails, paint and other stuff that Stiles didn’t know what it did. The alpha then loaded what he could in the Camaro and arranged to have the rest delivered to the Hale house.

The drive back was quiet because Stiles didn’t know what to say and Derek had turned off the radio. That didn’t really matter because Derek couldn’t hear him, but still. Usually talking was one thing Stiles did naturally, and silence made him uncomfortable.

Derek looked uncomfortable.

In his own car.

In his own, self-induced silence.

He didn’t shuffle through the presets or fidget in his seat. All he did was stare out the windshield as he drove.

Derek took the long way, driving slowly passed Stiles’ house. The lights in the kitchen were on and Stiles figure then would be a good time to check on his dad. Derek looked like he needed to be alone with his brooding. Stiles didn’t want to have to sit through that.

“Thanks for the ride. Too bad I can Apparate so it’s a bit redundant. Have fun with the renovations, bro.”

Stiles didn’t think following Derek around would be that appealing, but it had been. Derek, for all his faults, was the tiniest bit fascinating to watch when he didn’t know someone was watching. So, while he wanted to see how the house went, he knew he should check on his dad. When Stiles teleported to the kitchen, Scott was with his dad at the table.

“—and Jackson just melted. Stiles looked like the world had ended.”

The sheriff ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “I knew something had happened with her.”

Scott nodded. “I’m pretty sure we all owe our lives to Stiles at this point.”

His dad looked broken. “This whole time, my kid has been a hero and I didn’t know.”

To Scott’s credit he didn’t look seconds away from tears anymore. “Basically, yeah.”

His father looked proud for a moment before shame set in. “What kind of sheriff doesn’t know what’s going on with his own kid?”

“The kind who raises a genius?” Scott sighed. “He wanted to protect you.”

John nodded, but didn’t look like he felt better.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week Stiles spent mostly with his dad. He watched the search effort slowly begin to die down when no evidence was appearing. The rest of the department was obviously frustrated, while his dad just seemed… defeated. Stiles gave up on his dad sensing he was there.

Mostly, he was just proud his father didn’t pick up a drink once.

When his dad slept, Stiles checked up on everyone. Scott was finally sleeping through the night—which was probably greatly helped by Isaac taking up residence in Scott’s room.

Okay, so Stiles didn’t check up on Boyd and Erica as much because he didn’t want to appear in the middle of something R rated.

Checking up on Derek was the real gem. The first thing the alpha did was sand the door and give it a fresh coat of red paint. He replaced the floor in the living room and the stairs. The entire floor was ripped up and replaced in a matter of hours. Stiles wondered how the alpha knew so much about construction and by the time Derek started work on the roof Stiles was going insane from unrelenting curiosity about these mad carpentry skills that Stiles had literally never heard of. Derek having a practical set of skills was just… weird.

Twilight Zone weird.

Stiles’ inability to be heard didn’t stop him from talking of course.

He talked to everyone; Scott, Isaac, Boyd and Erica, and Derek. He talked to Derek a lot. It was just fascinating to watch Derek when he thought no one was looking.

He talked to his dad a lot, just about stuff. Mostly about how ineffective the search would be if he WAS actually missing.

His dad was asleep at his desk early Friday morning when suddenly his radio buzzed to life. “Stilinski.”

His dad shot up and reached for the radio. “Here.”

“We just got a report of a body found on the preserve near the river. Short brown hair, hoodie. We’ve advised the hikers not to touch the body.”

“On my way.”

Stiles felt panic set in as his dad scrambled for his jacket. His father’s face had that numb determination on it that he’d seen way too many times when his mom had been getting close to the end of her fight. Stiles road shotgun in the cruiser and fidgeted the whole way. “It’s probably not me. Dead bodies have become a popular thing in Beacon Hills. Isn’t a full week if we haven’t had someone maimed, right? I was taken by fairies. No way could the body get back through the veil. Derek said.”

They pulled up to the spot the deputy had sent his dad and there it was. A body face down in the shallow pat of the river. It was the right height and the right hair. The clothes weren’t right. Stiles hoped his body wasn’t snatched and used for nefarious purposes. Stile’s dad raced out. They were already taking crime scene photos of the surrounding area. The sheriff skidded to a few feet away. “We clear.” The deputies looked at each other, then the crime scene photographer, who nodded.

John slowly walked forward and flipped the body over.

It was a girl. Stiles knew her (sort of) from school. Her name was Emily. Stiles dad looked visibly relieved but not happy. Dead bodies that weren’t Stiles had that effect on his dad.

He also looked about to cry. “I’ve seen her around town.” His dad’s voice was a little strained as the words came out. “She hangs out with that one girl… the dentist’s daughter. I can’t- I can’t think of her name.”

The deputies nodded. “Any sign of foul play?”

The sheriff shook his head. “Nah, no outward signs of trauma…” His dad checked her hands and arms. “No defensive wounds… possible drowning. She’s pretty fresh. Might have only been here an hour or two.” His dad ran a finger along her palm. “Some kind of… adhesive? Make sure to swab her hands for chemical make-up… just in case.”

Stiles had always thought his dad was cool. Super cool cop, his dad loved to serve up justice. He should have his own TV show.

Instead of investigating further his dad stood from where he was crouched and stretched. The popping noises his back made were mildly disturbing. Stiles looked out over the river. It was peaceful. Calm. Not at all how you would picture a crime scene. Maybe the girl just drowned in the river. Sometimes it happens.

Movement caught Stiles attention in the woods across the river, but when he looked he saw nothing. It took a second to realize there was little sound but the river and even that was muted. It was like the world was afraid to draw attention to itself. It was summer and not a single bird chirped in the distance. But what had spooked them? If Stiles could only—the sudden pull of his father leaving had Stiles teleporting to the car. Thirty five feet—his service area was expanding.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was just before lunch when his dad visited the high school to see the girl Emily was always hanging out with. She looked like she hadn’t slept and she had definitely been crying. Stiles didn’t really know much about her other than her dad was the town dentist. Stiles really should’ve learned her name. His dad sat on the edge of the principal’s desk.

“Janine, I want to thank you for your cooperation so far.”

She nodded, tugging at one of her braids that had fallen out of the collective she had pulled up into a ponytail.

“I want you to tell me what you told the officer this morning, alright? Take your time.”

Janine looked at office toy on the principal’s desk. The one with the clicking balls, watching them knock each other back and forth.

After a moment she took a deep breath. “Me and Emily had a fight. My parents think… that Emily is distracting me from school. I just have a problem with chemistry and I was getting tutoring. Emily was even giving me space to study. But they said I couldn’t go to the spring musical this weekend. They’re doing Grease. I called her when they told me and she got mad. Not at me just… at the situation. Emily was gonna be Rizzo.” Janine looked down at her hands, dark eyes brimming with tears.

“Did she say why she was out so late?”

“She said she was going for a run.  That she’d call me when she didn’t feel like screaming. That was only last night. If I had known—“ His dad got up and went around the table as he reached in his pocket for the handkerchief Stiles knew he kept on hand for these situations. Her sobs were violent, muffled, shaking her whole body. Stiles knew that kind of feeling. It took about ten minutes for the shaking to stop, though her tears kept coming.

“Thank you, Janine.”

She shook her head. Janine’s eyes said that she blamed herself. It made him wonder if he missed something between Janine and Emily. That just made Emily’s death sadder. Janine was probably not passing the Chemistry final.

Stiles had that feeling. That feeling there was more to this death then there seemed. This time it was a lot worse.  He was usually the only one to even think of looking into these things. This would be ruled an accident. No one would look for weird stuff. 

Stiles really wished his dad could hear him. Not that his dad ever listened to him about these things before, but it would be nice to look into it. If she had fallen there would be cuts or bruises. He didn’t trust it.

Janine got up to leave. His dad stopped her from going. “One last thing, was Emily a good swimmer?”

Janine’s brows furrowed. “She passed the swim tests at Girl Scout camp.”

“Alright. Thanks again. You should get back to class.”

The girl’s face fell. “Sheriff, what—?” But his dad left and she gave up on the rest of her sentence.

Stiles hoped that meant that his dad was as suspicious as he was.

His dad was going back to the station, so Stiles figured he had a bit of a window before any more sleuthing went down.

Had this death be reported on the news? Maybe the pack would look into it simply due to Derek’s paranoia. That’s an alpha’s job right? Be way too suspicious about everything? And wear black. The mere curiosity about Derek and wham, he was at Derek’s apartment… in Derek’s shower.

Staring at the back of a wet and naked Derek.

The teen immediately moved through the curtain, trying not to look because he had the worst timing in the world. “Jesus, do you need a job, wolf boy! It’s the middle of the day! I shouldn’t be barging in on you!” He huffed and that’s when he heard it. The faint song chorus of “Die Young” drifted to his ears.

“Do you have a soft spot for Ke$ha?”

The humming stopped mid-chorus and Stiles thought for a second that he had been heard. For once, he hoped he hadn’t because Derek would not let him live… if he was still alive. Instead of being mauled, the shower turned off and Derek reach out for a tower. Stiles moved out of the bathroom. “Just gonna go hang in the living room. You know, so I can say with a clear conscience I wasn’t peeping in on you in the shower.” Derek came out in a towel draped around his hips. He was like one of those stupid Greek statues. It made Stiles hate Derek a little.

Or a lot. Whichever.

Derek cracked the front door open and looked outside before shutting the door. The alpha let out a frustrated huff.

“Expecting company?”

Stiles watched Derek turn on the TV, and go back to his bedroom.  “Ugh, you realize you just turned on What Not to Wear, right?” Erica must have been the last person watching the TV.

But Derek was in his room. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the TV. Stiles sighed and sat on the couch. His mind, however, wasn’t on the show, which was making over some random suburban mom. Instead, it was on Emily’s hollow eyes, Janine’s tear soaked face. He hadn’t really known them. Then again, when Jackson was out on a murder spree he hadn’t known those people either.

But he felt it. Death always wreaked havoc on his insides and peace of mind.

Derek returned from his room after about an hour with low riding jeans and black socks on. He grabbed the remote again and flipped to the news. The local news wrapped up the weather (tonight was clear skies and a chance of showers later in the weekend, if anyone cared). They went through a piece on funding for the library, and then declared they had breaking news; teen girl found dead by the river. They outlined the scene in vague terms, before stating, “when asked, the Sheriff’s department stated they did not suspect foul play. In other news, the search for the missing son of Sheriff Stilinski has all but—“ Derek flipped off the TV and rubbed his eyes.

When was the last time he’d slept? Guilt started to settle in on the edges of that question.  Stiles watched the alpha, thoughtful. “Are you just going to sit around your apartment and mope? That is so unattractive.”

Derek huffed loudly and went over to a laundry basket full of cloths. He grabbed a long sleeve dark green shirt from the top and padded over to his shoes.

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes. “Whoa, so you aren’t going to sit around and mope? Seriously, if you can actually hear me, I’ll kill you.” Derek toed on his shoes, which was really bad of the backs of them but he seemed in a hurry. “Where are you headed anyway? It’s not time for the pack meeting.”

They made their way across town in the Camaro and took the road off towards the preserve. “You’re looking into it. Shit, I can always count on you and your wolfy paranoia.”

They stopped and Derek got out far enough away from the place they found Emily to not be suspicious. Derek lurked just out of ear shot of two lone officers still in the area and then headed up river. Which Stiles thought was actually really smart. The police hadn’t seemed to be looking for where she entered the river, focusing instead on where she washed up. They came to a bridge and Derek stopped, sniffing the air. His eyes flashed red for a second and he ran along the bank.

It was a sight to witness that was for sure. Stiles never really forgot that Derek was all coiled strength and animal instinct, but he really avoided thinking about it most days. Stiles eventually figured out how to glide at Derek’s pace so he could keep up. The only sound around them was the rustle of leaves and loud panting. Stiles wasn’t sure Derek knew what he was running to or after, but there was something single minded in it that Stiles didn’t question. Eventually Derek slowed, and then stopped by a fallen tree along the riverbed. He bent down to study it, running a finger along its bark and pulling away a weird, slightly greenish goo.

Stiles remembered. “Her hands, that was on Emily’s hands.”

Derek straightened and took in a deep breath. “Like… cloths left in the washing machine too long,” he whispered as he made a face. Stiles breathed in too but didn’t smell anything. Ghost senses sucked. Derek nearly jumped out of his skin and took a fighting stance, turning towards the water.

Both Derek and Stiles froze.

It was… it was Stiles, knee deep in water wearing the cloths he disappeared in. Stiles, logically knew it was impossible but there he was, staring at his own face. The other Stiles smiled at Derek, but it didn’t quite fit right. “Hey, sourwolf. You found me.”

Derek’s eyes went wide. Massive relief crossed the alpha’s face. “Stiles.” Derek breathed out his name like a sigh.

Real Stiles panicked. “Derek, that thing is not me. Whatever it is, it is definitely not me. Do not go into that water or so help me I’ll—!” But Derek was already approaching the water, eyes fixed on Stiles’ doppelganger. Stiles followed. “Derek!”

Derek lingered on the shore a few seconds. Hand out stretched, cautious but hopeful. “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know. One minute I was chanting and the next… here I am.”

Stiles placed himself between Derek and the… thing. “What is the point of me being here if I can’t help stop you!?” Then Stiles saw Derek’s eyes.  They were vacant, staring off into something Stiles couldn’t see. “Please, Derek, snap out of it. You need to fight. You’re good at that.”

But it was already too late. Derek reached out for other Stiles’ shoulder and when his hand was placed on it, Stiles watched his double’s face morphed into an evil snarl. The figure's head and body began to elongate and transformed from Stiles into this massive… thing. Derek’s eyes snapped back into focus right away, baring his teeth. He tried and failed to pull his hand away and the massive body that was beginning to form pulled him under.  The alpha wolfed out, fighting against it. Derek slashed at the figure with claws but it didn’t give right away. His nails caught in the skin.

All Stiles could do was watch, frozen in terror. Whatever the thing was, he couldn’t tell. It had skin like a whale, but hair, and every once in a while he thought he saw teeth.

When Derek finally disappeared into the river Stiles didn’t take time to think. He just dived under the water. Two seconds and he knew it was pointless. He couldn’t see anything through the gloom, and he returned to the surface after only a few seconds, hovering over the water frantically, not wanting to miss the moment Derek resurfaced… if he resurfaced. The murky depth of the river hid Derek’s fate.

“I swear if you’ve drowned I will never forgive you.” The words sounded harsh and cracked in his ears. His chest was tight as the seconds ticked by, heart pounding like war drums. It was hard to focus, like he was light headed, like a panic attack. He was so useless. Why was he still floating around if he was just going to watch Derek die? Derek couldn’t die. He couldn’t have gone through all that misery and pain just for it to end here at the bottom of the river.

Suddenly Derek emerged with a splash, gasping for air. He was down river a bit and farther out than when he had gone under but he was alive. He made his way to shore quickly. Stiles teleported next to the alpha, checking him over the best he could. Derek collapsed on the shore and shook his head, must be shock or exhaustion. The man nearly drowned and he wasn’t even running, wasn’t even trying to move away from the water. It was like the idiot had a death wish.

“Not Stiles.” Derek panted out with almost sarcastic finality.

“Derek.” Stiles' voice cracked, because Derek didn’t _care_ that he almost _died_. He reached out for Derek’s shoulder because no, Derek had to care. Derek had a pack—a pseudo family. He had to know what losing him would do to them. His hand went through Derek and he looked down at it like it had betrayed him.

Right. Stiles couldn’t touch him. Why was that suddenly such a pity? It’s not like Stiles had touched Derek much when he was corporeal. Why did he feel so guilty about being dead now?

Derek opened his hand and Stiles gawked. A large patch of blue-black flesh was stuck to Derek’s palm. Derek shook his hand but the patch didn’t budge. The face he pulled gave Stiles a moment of peace. If he were really hurt, Derek wouldn’t care what bit of gross was stuck to his hand.

Stile’s relief swiftly became anger. “You ever do something that stupid again, I swear, you little shit, I’ll— you knew that wasn’t me! You had to have smelled it on him!”

“At least, I know her death wasn’t an accident,” Derek mumbled to himself, closing his eyes.

Stiles stopped short at that remark. That thing… it had tried to drown Derek. It hung out the image of someone the prey knew, like a lure. “That’s what happened to Emily. She was attacked. But why? What did that… that thing want?”

Derek pulled out his phone and dialed, putting it to his ear. After a moment he spoke, “Scott? I’m moving up the time of the meeting to right after you get out of school. Let the pack know. Also, ask Stiles' dad if he can make it. Tell him to look up any recent missing persons too. Anything suspicious that catches his eye... Call it a hunch.” Derek ended the call and laid back on the damp earth looking up at the sky. “Stupid. Didn’t smell right and I just-.” Derek shook his head like he was trying to stay awake. “Maybe some kind of hypnosis?”

Stiles sat next to him on the shore. “I’m really messing you up, aren’t I? It got you by using your guilt.” Derek finally stood, heading towards where he left the Camaro. Stiles followed, watching the alpha carefully for the smallest sign he was hurt. “I’m messing up all your instincts. You knew but it looked like me. That was enough.”

Stiles followed him on the journey back, lost in thought. Something was going on with Derek, something huge and Derek, being the emotional clam that he was, wasn’t talking about it. The alpha was just going to let Stiles' death weigh on him, just like every other death he had faced. Stiles’ disappearance fit so well with the fire, like a matching set of albatrosses.

“You didn’t even like me,” Stiles mused as they finally reached the car. “You thought I was annoying and ridiculous. Why beat yourself up this way? I wasn’t anything special.”

As always, Derek didn’t just suddenly look him in the eyes and tell him to shut up. He just turned the Camaro on and drove back to Beacon Hills like he wasn’t soaking wet and half drowned.

Stiles worried about Derek’s ability to internalize these things.


	6. Chapter 6

None of the pack was at the house when Derek got there. School didn’t let out for another hour, and Derek immediately went upstairs. Stiles stayed in the living-room and looked around. The door was painted, and so were the walls. Oak floors shined from the light coming through all new windows. They still had that tattered old sofa, but two more sofas had joined it. They were old but a lot newer then the one on the end. A coffee table sat along the far wall. Stiles wondered when Derek got the house back from the state. If he ever found a way to be solid again, he’d have to ask.

Derek came back downstairs in clean clothes, running his hand down the new banister as he descended, and at the bottom of the stairs he tried to shake it. When it didn’t move he smiled. Stiles had to question if Derek was sane because he had nearly drowned less than an hour ago and now he was grinning like an idiot at his craftsmanship.

Stiles also had to wonder how much sleep Derek had gotten. This was a lot of work for a one man crew in a week.

The alpha made his way back out to the porch and Stiles sighed as he followed. He was getting really tired of the whole follow-people-around-and-not-be-able-to-interact-with-anything thing that was going on. Some alpha wolves could really use a slap upside the head because even they needed to sleep.

With all that had gone on not an hour prior you would think he’d want to hide away from the great outdoors a bit. Instead Derek sat on the top step of the porch and just kind of… stared out into the distance.

“Is this what you do when no one is looking? Are you secretly into like… meditating? Do you commune with the forest, Legolas?”

The usual silence greeted him, and he accepted it with only mild agitation at this point. Derek didn't even flinch. Eventually Derek closed his eyes and breathed deep. Stiles went quiet, waiting for… well he wasn’t sure what.

“But seriously, what are you—?”

“Shhhhhh…”

Stiles gawked. “Did you just—?”

But Derek just kept taking deep breaths.

“If you start doing yoga, I am gone.” A rustle in the bushes just beyond the front yard made Stiles jump.

“Rabbit.” Derek whispered.

Stiles watched and sure enough, a rabbit poked its head out before retreating into the bushes again.

“Oh, so it’s like a game. This how you unwind?”

Stiles sat next to Derek on the porch step. He watched the alpha for a moment, staying quiet. There really was no point to asking things aloud if he couldn’t be heard. Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do than play along. At first the sounds were hard to distinguish for his boring human ears. The forest had this white noise of birds and rustling leaves. He thought he might have even heard a plane.

“Dude, maybe with your wolfie-senses this is interesting but I might just pop in on the others if it doesn’t pick up.”

He opened his eyes but Derek seemed to be concentrating on listening. His brow was a little creased, head tilted a little. Stiles huffed and, despite what he said, closed his eyes again to listen. What could it hurt? After a few moments the noises started to become more distinct. Birds taking off in the distance, chirping of bugs, light footsteps on the grass too light to logically be a person. It was actually… kind of relaxing. The longer he sat and listened, the clearer sounds became. He almost thought he heard a car on the main road that ran through this part of the forest. That couldn’t be right. It was nearly a mile off.

Then he noticed a thumping; soft, strong, close by. A peaceful rhythm, too soft to be a drum, accompanied by running water slowly became more distinct.

He listened for what felt like ages, peaceful for the first time since he became a ghost. Listened to the drumming and the sounds of the forest. Breathing in and out. It was like the rest just melted away and the world wasn’t… louder, just sharper, easier to pick out each distinct sound, and every moment the soft drumming was there, somehow reassuring.

He eventually heard the sound of approaching wheels and he opened his eyes. His head spun. The world was too bright, too in focus. When he looked at Derek it was like real life had gone high-def on him; every hair, every freckle, every pore on the alpha’s face was suddenly in focus. Stiles could even see the twitch of his pulse on the alpha’s neck and that explained the drumming. Derek had opened his eyes too. Now they were wide with surprise and, wow, really, really green. Suddenly, the world snapped back to normal and Stiles thought he might vomit, if he had a real stomach with actual contents in it, that is.

“What was that?” Stiles blinked rapidly until his vision cleared completely.

Derek walked down the steps as Jackson’s Porche pulled in, the surprise gone from Derek’s face.

Lydia and Jackson hopped out, first to arrive as always. Well, Lydia as always, Jackson was only early when Lydia was. “I hear we might have trouble.”

Derek nodded. “Heard right. The others should be here soon enough. No use starting over again. If you want to start on something, there is a large chunk of skin in the upstairs’ bathroom sink. Want to tell me what you can gather by a quick looksee?”

Lydia’s face lit up like he told her Hollister was having a sale. She practically skipped up the stairs. Jackson just watched her go, unfazed. Derek and Jackson just kind of looked at each other before moving to lean against the railing of the front porch. “Where’s the human friend of yours?”

“He tutors kids after school on Friday’s. I told him to swing by after.” Stiles grinned. So Danny did know. How did Derek know that?

It wasn’t long after that that Allison’s SUV rolled up the drive along with the sheriff’s cruiser. The rest of the pack filed out. His dad walked to his passenger side door and pulled out a very full box. Derek jumped down and grabbed it from him. “Sheriff.”

“Hale.” He gestured to the box. “All the weird missing persons from the past couple of months. This had better be good.”

Derek nodded. “I promise.” They all walked up the stairs and headed toward the living room. Stiles was still a little stuck on the whole perfect clarity of a moment ago but now wasn’t time for that.

Everyone found a place to sit, arranging the new seating so they made a half circle. The little powwow would have been adorable if it weren’t for the whole monster on the loose situation. Lydia had returned with the skin thing on a plate. She kept poking at it with a tooth pick.

Derek stood in front, crossing his arms. “Alright, I’m getting straight to the point. There is something in the river.”

Stiles resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

Boyd grinned. “Anything more specific than that?”

“It drowns it victims, probably drags them off somewhere. Uses some kind of hypnosis, and disguises itself as… well whatever gets its victim to touch it.” Stiles’ dad raised his hand. “Yes, Sheriff?”

“How did you come about this knowledge?”

“It tried to drown me.” The entire pack tensed to the point that even the humans were uncomfortable. “I saw the news. That girl’s death just didn’t sit right and I couldn’t leave it alone. Nothing happens by accident in this place. I went looking. I found what killed her.”

Isaac looked completely indignant. “It tried to drown you? Like how far is ‘tried’?”

“It’s a lure. It baits you and once you touch it, it’s already too late. You’re literally glued to it. I ripped the skin I was stuck to off. If I hadn’t I’d have definitely drowned.”

Boyd raised his hand but didn’t wait to be acknowledged. “How did you even let it get that close?” Derek tensed. “And you said hypnosis and disguises. How did you not… see through it?”

“Just because I’m the alpha doesn’t mean I’m infallible. All of you have seen that in action. How does this surprise you?”

Stiles had never seen the group look as guilty as they did then. Lydia raised her hand. “This skin is almost seal like but… it has some kind of sticky coating—most likely bacteria of some kind that acts as a natural adhesive. I’d need a microscope to confirm that.”

“So the thing kills people,” Mr. Stilinski chimed in, “and uses its sticky skin to make sure they don’t get away.”

Derek shrugged. “Basically.”

Scott finally piped up, “You never said how it got you.”

Derek tensed again. “It turns into someone they can lure you in with. For me it was… Laura.”

Erica punched Isaac hard in the arm when he went to open his mouth.

There was a time Stiles would say he understood Derek. He was completely wrong and a total idiot for thinking for one second that he did. “That was a lie. You realize they will smell a lie. Why would you lie? There is no reason to lie. Are you just a compulsive liar?”

His dad cut off the rest of his unheard rant. “Why did it let go of the girl then? She didn’t have a scratch on her.”

Lydia piped in on that. “Probably has something to do with why they drown people in the first place. Seems like a lot of effort for no reason.”

Derek got that light bulb look on his face. He turned back to the sheriff. “Was she sick?”

Stile’s dad eyed him curiously before he nodded. “Found it this morning. Leukemia, early stages.”

Derek shrugged again. “Simple enough. Bad meat.”

Everyone’s eyes went wide. Stiles was actually kind of proud. That was a pretty easy deduction but for the pack leader to actually make the jump first was impressive. That was usually Stiles’ job.

“Ew.” Scott turned up his nose.

“Yes, generally people find something eating people disgusting, McCall.” The comment earned Jackson a death glare from Allison and the jock folded his arms. “So we can’t know if she was the first victim. That’s why you had the Sheriff bring the case files.”

Derek shrugged. “It knew what it was doing. I assumed it hunted in the river for a while.”

“Alright we’ve got a why.” Stile’s dad began sifting through the box he brought pulling out a map. “And you were attacked, so we have a general idea of where. Now all we need to figure out is a what. Any ideas what the hell this thing is?”

Derek shifted from foot to foot. “I’d say siren but they’re generally open ocean types.”

Stiles gaped at him. Mermaids were a thing too? Seriously?

Allison nodded. “We’re looking at a fresh water fish then. So to speak.”

Derek pulled forward a coffee table and the sheriff spread out the map. “I’ve got a bunch of maps but this one shows the majority of the river that runs through town. Pretty much any of the missing person files I got are possible victims.”

Derek nodded. “Look for smaller prey—I mean like young kids. That thing wasn’t looking for a fight and it wasn’t prepared for one. It goes after the smaller people. You, Isaac, and Jackson plot that out. Lydia, figure out all you can about that skin. When you’re done with that you’ll join Allison, Boyd and Erica in researching the lore. You’ll be happy to know I’ve finally got that stupid Wi-Fi you guys wouldn’t stop asking for.”

Stiles stomach lurched. None of the others told Derek to get Wi-Fi. That was all Stiles and Derek had finally gotten Wi-Fi.

Scott frowned. “What about me?”

“We are going to grab dinner because I am starving. Nearly drowning is exhausting. Text us your taco orders while we are on the way.” He walked towards the door and grabbed his leather jacket from a hook by it. “I’m really lucky you convinced me to get that waterproof case for my phone.”

Scott’s face was concerned but he didn’t say anything. Stiles stomach dropped completely and was slushing around in his shoes.

Stiles had told him to get one of those too—no, nagged him for months to get one because he was constantly breaking, drowning, and dropping it.

Stiles went with Scott and Derek, sitting in the back seat because he was nosy. Once the Camaro was out on the main road, Scott finally spoke. “You okay?”

Derek started. “Yeah, why?”

Scott gawked at him. “You nearly died!”

“I nearly die on a biweekly basis.”

“Well yeah, but it usually gets to you a little. And drowning?”

“I’ve almost drowned before. It wasn’t like that this time. I could fight.” Derek shifted gear a little more aggressively than necessary. That was right, Derek had nearly drowned when Stiles let go of him during the kanima thing. Silence stretched between them. Scott looked about to explode. Finally the beta exhaled and just said what was on his mind.

“It was Stiles. The thing lured you in with Stiles.” It wasn’t an accusation. Scott stated it like he knew and Scott, while he understood people, sometimes missed the subtler things. Not this time though.

Because Derek Hale was the worst liar ever.

They pulled into a parking spot outside the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. “If I wanted to talk about it, I would have said something at the house.” Derek went to get out but Scott grabbed his sleeve.

“No, Derek, you’re talking about this. You haven’t… what is up with you? You can’t even say his name.”

Derek ran a hand over his face. “I let the pack down. You guys are all that matter right now. If I stop to think about it too long, I’ll—“ The sentence hung in the air and Derek watched the cars go by on the road.

“We all miss him, man. He is my best friend; if anyone understands, it’s me. You said that you can’t give up and you were right. But right now there isn’t anything we can do.”

“Yeah. All I can do is find out what happened to that girl and do right by the pack. Which includes providing for them.” Derek gestured towards the fast food joint.

Scott sighed. “Try saying it. Come on. You’ll feel better.”

For a moment it looked like Derek was going to grab the back of Scott’s head and slam it into the dashboard. Slowly the look passed and a little of the tension in his shoulders unraveled and a longsuffering sigh escaped the alpha. “I am worried about him.” Scott just kept looking at Derek expectantly and he rolled his eyes. “And I feel guilty.”

The beta nodded. “Because?”

“Because pack is my responsibility. And I get it isn’t rational because he didn’t think of himself as pack and it really isn’t my fault. He wouldn’t want me beating myself up, but I just do. If you haven’t noticed that is kind of my thing. I think of the look on his face right before he disappeared every single moment I’m not doing something important. There were so many things he tried to get me to do and I was stubborn and didn’t do them and now I can’t stop doing them. He suggested I fix up the house and get Wi-Fi and a phone case that is nearly indestructible. He told me to try being gentler with the pack and I just keep doing these things. And then there is this weird energy I have that I can’t shake and sleeping is hard because I’m just awake all the time and if I don’t care about what is happening I just can’t focus so I have to throw all this energy into productive things. I taught myself how to get the wiring in the house up to regulation and did all the work in maybe an afternoon. And it’s weird, okay? It’s all just weird.” Derek was breathing a little hard and staring at Scott. “Are you happy?”

Scott grinned. “Actually, yes. I feel like we bonded there. I think that is the most you’ve ever said to me in one sitting. I wish I had recorded it as proof.”

Derek snorted. “Whatever. We’ve got a hungry gang of teenagers to feed.”

“Do you at least feel better?”

Derek looked out the side window and shrugged. “A little. But don’t get used to it.”

Scott reached out and squeezed the alpha’s shoulder. “He’s okay. Now let’s get tacos.”

They got out and headed for the building. Stiles stayed behind for a moment, watching them keep talking as they went inside.

Stiles imagined the portal to the fairy world reopening in two weeks and Derek doing whatever he planned to do and him coming upon Stiles’ body and realizing all that waiting and hoping was for nothing— “I liked it better when you hated me.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

When Scott and Derek came back to the Hale house they had the scariest order of Taco Bell Stiles had ever witnessed and one cheese pizza. They made two trips into the restaurant and Scott put his wolf power to good use balancing drinks while Derek drove.

The whole trip took an hour mostly because Derek was driving like an old man. Erica and Isaac were in the drive way when they got back.

“Oh my gosh, thank goodness! I was starving.” Erica rushed forward to help with a single bag that probably contained her food. Isaac helped them with the rest.

All productivity came to a halt as food was distributed and devoured.

Boyd was apparently a plain crunchy taco man. The others gave him an odd look as he pulled a box of fifteen to him but no one was dumb enough to make fun of him for the lack of fixings. It didn’t help that the beta was sipping his root beer like he would cut anyone who spoke about it. Erica had about as many tacos but it was those fiery Doritos ones that made Stiles’ tongue melt off, and the girl hadn’t even ordered a drink. What was that about?

Scott had three seven layer burritos, two soft tacos, and a meximelt which was already half gone because he got hungry in the car. Isaac got two smothered steak burritos and a nachos bellgrande. If past encounters were anything to go on, Isaac would attempt to share it and act like it was a real hardship. Allison was usually a taker on that mostly because she just got a couple potato soft tacos and a sweet tea. Scott and Isaac toasted their Baja Blasts when Scott revealed he got them cinna-stix. Lydia had a gordita supreme and a diet coke, giving the extra soft taco to Jackson who had two taco salads of his own and a Sierra Mist. Apparently being alpha means you need two XXL steak burritos, a crunch wrap, a lemonade, and an small army of cheese roll-ups in order to feel full. While food was being distributed Danny showed up and Jackson handed him the pizza Stiles had been wondering about.

Derek handed a bag over to Stiles’ dad. If there was a half-pound cheesy potato burrito in there Stiles swore on all that was good he would kill his father. He would kill him dead because that was nothing but bad for him and he probably got sour cream too. Confusion dawned on his father’s face and he looked up at Derek. “I didn’t order this.” The sheriff pulled out a chicken cantina salad. Derek looked between the sheriff and the bowl, obviously unconcerned.

“And?”

His father did the best impression of a fish that he could, mouth opening and closing like his brain kept starting and stopping. “What do you mean ‘and’?”

Derek just stared at him unimpressed. His dad looked to Scott. “I told you a burrito.”

Don’t-look-at-me crossed Scott’s face. “And I told Derek a burrito.”

Stiles’ dad looked back to Derek, then at the salad and mumbled about conspiracies as he opened it.

It took about ten extra seconds for Stiles to catch up with the implications. If he read this exchange right—he didn’t usually read situations right but if he DID just this once— then Derek just got his dad a salad he didn’t ask for.

Which either meant Derek likes to just mess with his dad or Derek knew about his dad’s need to diet. The latter meant that Derek had not just heard Stiles’ rants but actually listened to what he was saying and remembered.

And on top of that Derek had extended packhood to his dad.

And was taking care of him while Stiles couldn’t.

Stiles felt a sudden wave of gratitude and wholly regretted being unable to express it. It was one thing for Derek to feel guilty about Stiles disappearing and to start providing for the pack the way he should but to do this for Stiles’ dad—who _arrested_ him and whom he had been generally wary of?

For the first time Stiles felt a real, strong surge of affection for the alpha. Not just curiosity or empathy or man your life really sucks, but true _fondness_.

“You’re doing this on purpose to get into my good graces, aren’t you? That is cheating. You were a jerk. There was head slamming involved. And threatening. You did an awful lot of threatening.”

But everyone laughed at a joke Isaac had told during Stiles’ mini rant, and Derek laughed too and looked back at the sheriff, who gave a small smile. Derek masked his telltale worried-alpha face by taking another bite of his burrito.

When the food was mostly eaten Derek spoke up, “Find out anything good while we were gone?”

Lydia raised her hand. “I was right about the bacteria. Nothing I’ve ever seen in person. It looks like it could be a cousin of caulobacter crescentus. Basically it makes a really strong natural adhesive.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “How did you—?”

“That would be me,” Danny interrupted. “I tutor chem in the lab after school. I… borrowed a microscope.”

Derek nooded. “Alright, what does that tell us?”

The red head shrugged. “Nothing we didn’t already know; fresh water, smells a bit moldy, the bacteria seems able to withdrawal the adhesive back into itself which means it can release whatever it’s latched onto. I’ve never seen that before.”

Jackson snorted. “But it makes a kind of sense. Doesn’t do any good trying to eat something stuck to your back.”

Derek ignored him. “Where we at lore-wise?”

Allison whipped out her laptop. “So there aren’t many freshwater siren-esque creatures roaming the wilds. It’s helped a lot.”

 Boyd counted off on his fingers. “Nixies, melusines, kelpies, rusalkas, morgens, selkies—“

Derek frowned. “Hey, selkies are good people… most of the time. Anyway, they aren’t man eaters… not like that. Cross them off your list.”

The faces the pack made were priceless, but all mirrored the struggle between asking and not wanting to know. If Stiles were tangible he would have been the brave soul to ask. You don’t drop the “I have knowledge of selkies that is possibly juicy supernatural gossip” bomb and not share with the class.

Allison was the first to recover. “We’re leaning closer to nixie, anyway. Basically a kind of river mermaid.”

Isaac beamed. “Or rusalkas. They’re similar just… more fishy and—” Suddenly  every werewolf  in the room tensed and they all fell silent..  After a tense and still moment Derek got up and went to the front door. When he opened it, Peter was on the other side looking put-upon and poised to knock.

“Good evening. Felt the call. I wish you’d all stop doing that. I may be half way to clinically insane but I am still pack and you all being together is itchy.”

Scott frowned. “What are you talking about? That’s the second time you’ve just creepily waltzed in and blamed us. Not cool.”

Peter rolled his eyes and sauntered in, giving the sheriff a salute as he passed. “Pack bond. It’s a kind of… sixth sense. You’ve all got. Not as strong in the newly bitten ones and the discourse between you all has not helped. I’m sure you’ll grow into it. ” The older werewolf rolled his neck. “It’s a little too kumbaya for my tastes and all very beside the point. I heard something on the way up the drive about nixies?”

“Something is in the river and luring people to their death so it can eat them. Derek nearly drowned. We’re looking up possible suspects.” Stiles’ dad looked like he really wanted to say more but was doing his best to just be quiet. Probably something to do with the fact he recently learned Peter had been resurrected from the dead not all that long ago and had been the perpetrator of a string of vicious killings. Lydia had a similar look and it occurred to Stiles she probably wasn’t over the whole bringing him back from the dead thing.

Peter shrugged. “Nixies are clever. Too clever to be so stupid as to tango with an alpha. You want one with a little less reasoning.”

“An animal?” Scott asked.

Peter glared at him.  “If you want to sound ignorant then yes.”

The two glared at each other, but Boyd grinned. “Well, I’m still putting my money on a nixie. No matter what Freaky Fred over there says. Might have been over reaching.”

Erica raised her hand. “I’m gonna make a guess it’s a Kelpie. They’re original form is a horse and they tend to be more beast like then the other shifters.”

Boyd stuck out his hand. “I’ll take that wager.”

Isaac perked up. “I’m putting in my vote for rusalkas. It’s getting close to Rusalkas Week which, according to legend is when they’re most active. The usual terms?”

“Agreed.” The three of them shook on it when it became apparent no one else wanted to bet on it and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Alright, until we get some kind of confirmation on what this thing is, we’ll need to figure out where else it’s been fishing.” Derek looked to the sheriff. “Anyone stand out?”

“Three.” Stiles’ dad moved some of the food stuff out of the way to spread the map out again. He tapped a red x that had been drawn on it. “First was a five year old two months ago. One minute at the park near the river, the next she was gone. No suspects. No clues, just gone.” He moved up river some and tapped again. “Second is an eight year old on a camping trip further upstream, believed to be abducted by her father. Her mom got a restraining order against him and he’s been accused of stalking her. No one has been able to find him or the girl. That was a little more than a month ago. The last was three weeks ago—siblings ages seven and ten, walking home from school which could take them close to the river. That’s why I included it.”

Derek looked at the x’s on the map and sighed. “Probably all of them. If it is, the thing is getting bolder.”

Allison’s face paled. “ _Hungrier_.”

While it was probably inappropriate due to the horrific implications everything they just deduced, Stiles was beaming with pride at this point. Usually this was his job; making the connection from point A to point B and sometimes jumping all the way to point W without much to go on but a gut instinct. That the pack was finally putting all their heads together and bouncing ideas off each other, despite that it took losing him to accomplish it, put him a little at ease.

Peter smirked, crossing his arms. “And its last two hunts were flops. Now it’s wounded. It’s only going to get more desperate.”

Allison nodded. “It’ll attack again. And soon.”

Peter gave her a little bow. “The little huntress knows best.”

Allison’s death glare would take down any sane man. Scott snorted. “ _Allison_ can shoot your balls off from a football field away. You don’t want to mess with her.” But then he looked to Allison. “Speaking of hunters though, maybe we should ask your dad about it. He does have a bunch of guns and a general dislike for supernatural creatures.”

Peter rolled his eyes this time. “Putting it mildly.”

Derek snarled, “I will mildly put you down if you don’t stop being an ass.” The alpha really needed to work on his comebacks.

Peter held up his hands. “Whoa, sorry I’m not overly fond of the family that produced the woman who would ultimately burn our family alive. All water under the bridge… that was also burned. But their aid would be… helpful. And would you all stop glaring at me? I haven’t even threatened any of you recently.”

Everyone pointedly stopped looking at Peter and looked to Derek. “I hate to say it but it is probably a good idea to let them know what’s going on. Shows good faith. And besides, this way they can’t say we didn’t tell them, right?” The alpha looked to Danny. “How caught up are you on all of this?”

The older teen looked surprise. “I—uh, Jackson told me about how he was a lizard thing and now he’s a werewolf like the lot of you. But a couple of the things you’ve said are just… Whoosh.” He swiped his hand over his head.

“Well, if you want to be a part of this, we’ll get you up to speed. Sheriff any questions so far?”

The sheriff shook his head. “I’m sure the shock of it all will settle in later but I’ve kept up.”

“Alright, I think this is as good as it’s going to get for one night. I don’t want anyone going near the river alone. Steer clear of it unless absolutely necessary. I think we’ll skip training for the night. Now, anyone got homework they haven’t done?”

Most of them shook their head but Erica and Scott looked distinctly guilty. Derek looked between them. “Well, if you ask nicely I’m sure that your packmates would help.” There was a thinly veiled implication that this was a command, but it was phrased in a way that gave them the option to bow out and Stiles wondered when Derek became less pushy.

“Do you have a TV?” Isaac asked, obviously trying to appear innocent.

“No. I haven’t found one I like and I am still working on this room. When I start furnishing the place for real I’ll get a TV.”

Erica face brightened. “You need to let me help you decorate.”

There was a collective groaned from the pack, except for Isaac. “Hey, I’m going to be living here! If anyone should get a say, it’s me.”

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Maybe if you actually do your work and pass your classes.” The alpha looked to the rest of them. “Anyone have to or want to go home that hitched a ride here?” The teenagers all just kind of looked at each other. “Everyone wants to stay? Okay then, but make sure the two slackers get their work done.”

The sheriff stood and stretched. “Well if the summit is over I’m going to head out. I’ve got an early shift in the morning.” Derek extended his hand to the sheriff who looked at it and smiled. They shook and the sheriff waved to the teens. “I’m gonna go try and find an excuse to warn people away from the river. Don’t make battle plans without telling me. I don’t care if you have super healing and super strength and super… everything.”

The alpha straightened. “You’ll be the first to know, sir.”

The “sir” caught his dad a little off guard and the incredulous look he gave Derek was priceless. “Good… Good. Be safe.” Though he shot Peter a look that Stiles knew well. It clearly illustrated that he could go straight to hell without having to actually vocalize it. Sometimes Stiles and his dad were scary similar.

When the sheriff was gone Peter perked up. “I see where the human pup gets his bite. I almost felt threatened. No one supply him silver bullet.”

Derek sighed. “Are you sticking around too?”

“Depends. Is there beer in the fridge?” Derek’s immediate ‘no’ was ignored because Derek was a bad liar. His Uncle went to the kitchen and returned with two. “So predictable.”

Scott made a face. “But you can’t get drunk.”

“So?” Peter handed the spare beer to Derek.

With that the pack broke apart a bit. Lydia, Allison, and Scott discussed his World History report on the aftermath of World War II, while Peter made snide and unhelpful commentary. Danny was kind enough to help Erica with her much needed Chemistry extra credit. Jackson grabbed his laptop and opened Netflix, while Isaac and Boyd moved a couch over to the other side of the room. Derek retrieved a stool from the kitchen.

Jackson rested his laptop on the stool after he clicked play on The Walking Dead. “Alright, Isaac, this tragedy is about to be corrected.”

Isaac pouted. “Derek hasn’t seen it either.”

Jackson looked personally offended. “Sit. Come into the 2010s. Live in the now for a bit.”

The alpha huffed but sat on the floor by Isaac’s feet. Jackson, being the ‘go big or go home’ guy that he was, had a huge laptop screen.

Stiles ventured over and sat next to Derek on the floor as he looked around the room at them and just felt a wave of home sickness. It was weird, because he was home and looking at them all, but he just suddenly missed them. He missed talking with them and arguing with them and plotting the downfall of mythical creatures with them. It should have been him on that couch with Scott, hashing out why the Berlin Blockade was bullshit and how the Berlin Airlift was one of the most badass things of all time.  Or he could be doing what he was doing now, watching the Walking Dead with the guys but also making stupid commentary about people’s reactions to a zombie apocalypse and trading zombie plans.

And his dad…. He would have argued to the death about that burrito with his dad. The sheriff might have stayed and watched the show with them.

Sadder still was knowing that if he was there, none of this would have happened. They would still be at odds, and it was a tiny bit selfish to almost miss the fighting because the peace meant he wasn’t there anymore.

While he watched them hang out, he saw signs they felt it too. Sometimes he would catch sadness creeping into Scott’s eyes, and worry in Allison’s. There were moments were Erica would get unnecessarily frustrated with Chem stuff and Danny would put a hand on her shoulder. Isaac was completely absorbed in the Walking Dead like tearing his eyes away would kill him but Boyd would keep glancing over to Erica like he expected her to explode at any moment. Their grief was still there.

Derek’s leg was bouncing and Stiles reached out to stop it, much in the same way he did for himself. He stopped inches from Derek’s knee because he realized how weird and awkward that would be. Then he remember it would do no good.

But the bouncing. That wasn’t a thing he remembered Derek doing. Derek was steady and didn’t jitter like Stiles without his meds.

Stiles afterlife seemed to be filled with a mixture of unending frustration at not being able to communicate, sheer helplessness when faced with the inevitable dread that was the rest of his existence, and growing concern for Derek’s state of mental health. At least being concerned for Derek took his mind off of the other two things because those sounded very ‘oh woe is me’. Stiles always hated self-pity. It was unproductive.

Stiles wasn’t one to give up. There was a reason he was here and with the pack, literally, in spirit.

With all the focus he could muster he concentrated on pretending to be solid, reached out and put his hand on Derek’s knee.

The bouncing didn’t stop but after a few seconds it was less violent. Stiles was elated because whether or not that was because of him it was progress.


	8. Chapter 8

Eventually Erica finished her extra credit. She and Danny pulled the other coach over to join the Walking Dead Marathon.

It was about ten thirty when Lydia was satisfied with Scott’s project. She had been quite harshly debating with Peter for the last half an hour about the Iron Curtain and other things completely unrelated to Scott’s specific topic. Everyone got the feeling it was about more than Communist Russia and left them be.

The three remaining teens joined the group still wrapped up in the zombie apocalypse, and Peter bid them farewell. “Going home?” Derek asked innocently enough.

Peter gave a look of confusion. “What if I’m not?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Seriously, what do you do?”

“I'm doing stuff, Derek. Things. Isn't that enough?”

Jackson glared at Peter. “We aren’t at that season yet. Stop it.” Peter didn’t acknowledge him, choosing to leave. “I can’t believe he watches The Walking Dead.”

Stiles snorted. “He was resurrected from the dead but yeah, watching The Walking Dead is totally unbelievable.”

After that, they all slowly kind of drifted off to sleep. Scott and Isaac, then followed closely by Erica. Jackson, Danny, and Lydia left when Boyd started to snore into Erica’s hair. That left Allison and Derek alone without a laptop. She groaned. “I should take them home.”

Derek shook his head. “Leave’em. I’ll take them home in the morning. You go.”

She nodded getting up and stretching. “Alright. I’ll talk to my dad tomorrow. Though I’m sure he’ll bug me about it as soon as I walk in the door.” She sighed and collected her stuff, giving Derek a wave before she left the house. “Try to get some sleep.”

That left Derek with his sleeping pack, and while he didn’t look like he going to be sleeping tonight Derek actually looked content.

 

Saturday morning, the pack awoke groggy and didn’t seem in a rush to go home. Derek however corralled Scott out of the house.

Before Derek left he gave them all the Alpha Stare. “No wondering off by yourself. Especially near the river. Understood?”

He got three halfhearted salutes and practically shoved a listless Scott out the door. The beta was unamused, but Stiles followed, completely amused by Scott’s just-out-of-bed face. “Where are we even going?”

“Deaton’s. Going to update him on the situation and see if he has any more info on the fairies.”

Scott nodded. “Oh, that’s probably a good idea.”

“I know it’s a good idea. Deaton might be able to help narrow down what we’re dealing with even further, maybe make a few calls.” Derek, bless his heart, yawned big and loud at the end of his sentence. Scott looked him over, concerned. “Before you ask. I am fine.”

They drove in silence for a while. When it was obvious Derek believed that Scott was going to drop it, Scott struck. “When is the last time you slept?”

Derek looked to be doing some mental math. “Monday?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Oh look, we’re here.”

Stiles followed them into the clinic, which wasn’t open yet. Inside Deaton was at an examine table with webpage print outs and super ancient looking books. He didn’t even look up when they entered. “Oh good, you saved me the trouble of calling you.”

“The fairy stuff needs to wait a second. We’ve got something a bit more immediate.” Derek dropped a tubberware container on the exam table. The skin of the monster inside looked to be turning greyer still. “Something is in the river. Some kind of siren.”

A few emotions crossed Deaton’s face, settling in on curiosity, and he put a hand on his chin in thought. “Really?”

Scott nodded. “We think its eating people.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down all that much. Lots of siren-like creatures eat people.” Deaton looked to Derek. “You might want to start from the beginning.”

The whole story didn’t take long. Derek’s near drowning, the research, everything they brainstormed. Deaton just nodded the whole time, listening. “So it’s up in the air? Some kind of fresh water siren is all we’ve really got to go one?”

Derek glared. “Yes. But there is a pattern. It’s going after larger and larger prey.”

Deaton seemed to think on that for a moment. Then horror crossed his face. “Well there are two possibilities for that. The first will be the best scenario; it’s going through a growth spurt, which means it’s young and dumb, and should be easy to take down.”

Derek frowned. “How is that easier?”

“The only other option I can think of, given that it put up any sort of successful struggle against an alpha, is that it may be pregnant—both rule out Isaac’s rusalkas because they don’t breed or grow. They’re already kind of dead honestly. Nixies aren’t usually this far up river but…” Deaton moved for the door leading to the back and both the werewolves followed. Stiles popped in behind them as Deaton pulled out a secret door which revealed a book shelf. “I’ve got a vague remembrance of some hunters telling me about a string of disappearances a few years back in a town by Folsom Lake. Same pattern, as in there was none—other than the location. Started on children, then up to adults, then just anyone going near the lake. Then it stopped, there was something weird that made me write it down and I just can’t remember...” He ran his finger along the spines of each book, eyes searching the markings on the side.

 “Anything we can learn from it?”

Deaton glared at the alpha, not liking how he tried to rush him. The vet was a slow and steady kind of guy. “If you would let me look.” He pulled out a small book and flipped it open. “Got it. What was weird is one of the victims’ hearts was found downriver in Sacramento.”

Scott made a face. “Ew.”

For a moment, Derek was lost in thought. “The lore says that kelpies don’t eat hearts.”

Deaton frowned. “Well, it will be a first that I’ve ever heard of one around here.”

But Derek was anxious. “They don’t seem to eat often, just once every few months but if this one is pregnant, hungry, and now _injured_.”

“It’ll probably get reckless.”

 “Allison was right.” Scott looked infinitely pleased at his girlfriend’s deduction skills.

Derek chuckled. “Erica, too, if there is any weight to this. She’s gonna be insufferable.”

Deaton sighed. “Well with that sorted out, we’ll probably need to start looking soon enough. What we need is a confirmed sighting to make sure we’re right. It’s pretty simple to stop a kelpie in theory. You kill it or, if you happen to have a kelpie’s bridle lying around, you use that.”

Derek nodded. “Right. So, you had new info on the fairy portal?”

“Yea, Holly, my fae contact, found me a spell to open the gate once the solstice arrives. But you’ll need someone with some magical ability to perform it.” Both the werewolves made a noise of annoyance. “Relax, Lydia should be able to do it. Every human has the potential to be able to tap into magic. She’s proved able to do _something_.” He waved a hand when they were about to object. “The spell isn’t the problem. The problem is the magic of the fae. The portal will let you pass into their world, but it won’t protect you from the high potency of magic in their world. It could still kill you, even with your healing factor.”

Scott frowned. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.

“According to Holly, it’s just the nature of the place. Potentially, if you manage to survive crossing over, you have… proven worthy and the magic no longer harms you. It’s old magic. Like the magic of true love and self-sacrifice.”

The two wolves looked at each other. A silent battle started between them and Stiles knew it was about who would go through the portal. Eventually, Scott looked away but the discussion looked far from over.

“Anyway, I’m still looking into what exactly may be through the portal, so we can actually start planning something. Hopefully, we can deal with the kelpie threat sooner rather than later.”

“We’ll start our search for the kelpie tonight. Hopefully, it hasn’t learned the scent of a werewolf yet.” He turned to leave, waving for Scott to follow. “In the meantime, I’ll take you home.”

Hurrying to catch up, Scott waved over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Deaton.”

Outside, Derek and Scott got in the Camaro in a weird, almost synchronized manner. The sight was almost laughable in how telling that was.

Once inside, Derek started the car but they made no move to leave, just stared at the clinic. “I’m going through the portal, Scott. You’re going to have to accept that.”

“What if you die? Who will lead the pack? If no one kills you, who becomes alpha?”

Derek seemed to think on that. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

“I think it’s important. Does it de facto go to Peter? Could it be Jackson because he was your first bite or Isaac because he was the first bite that took?”

Derek pulled out of the parking lot. “It’ll go to my second. Pack hierarchies form naturally and most don’t even notice they’re forming a system. When packs aren’t family, you don’t really know ‘til the alpha dies.

Scott blinked. “So it could even be Boyd?”

“He’s quite the stabilizing presence. But alpha instinct tells me no.”

Stiles smirked in the back because they were both dumb. Taking Scott on the Taco Bell run, calling him first after the monster attack, bringing him to Deaton’s? “I think you already know who your second in command is, Der.”

They drove in silence for a while. It wasn’t a long car ride to Scott’s house. When they pulled up, Scott’s mom’s car was in the drive way. “We meet up at night fall.”

Scott gave one last nod before going into the house. The Camaro pulled away and in the general direction of the Hale house. However instead of going straight there, Derek turned down a different street. Stiles wasn’t really paying attention though. “Can’t believe you would just wander through the portal. It’s so irresponsible. Not that you’ve been a shining beacon of responsibility or anything. Seriously, you need to be more—“ Words failed him as he saw where they were. “My house?”

Stiles could see his dad in the driver’s seat of his Jeep. It looked like he was trying to jump it with the squad car. The Camaro door shut and Stiles was brought back to the moment. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Derek approached the sheriff. “Car trouble?”

His dad laughed getting out of the Jeep. “Damn thing won’t start. I just put a new battery in this thing. I think it’s the starter.” His dad wiped his hands on his jeans. “How’s our river problem going?”

“We think we might know what it is. Just need to see if we can stop it.”

The Sheriff nodded. “We got an ‘anonymous tip’ at the station. Some kind of contaminant in the river. Everyone is too steer clear of it until the test results come back… Results that are at the back of our labs line to be done. I think it bought you a week.”

Derek nodded, looking into the engine of the Jeep. “Do you mind if I…” The alpha made a weird wave to the Jeep and Stiles' dad laughed.

“Be my guest.”

Stiles watched as Derek carefully examined what he could see. “Got electrical tape?”

Stiles’ dad reached into the side door of the Jeep and pulled out Stiles’ stash from the glove box before tossing it to Derek.

His hands moved with obvious practice as he wrapped a few wires. Stiles had no clue what Derek was doing but after a minute or two under the hood Derek came out from under it. “Try it.”

The sheriff got back in the front seat and turned the key. The Jeep sputtered to life and his dad let out a whoop. “Wow kid, you know what you’re doing under their, don’t ya?”

“It’ll last you to an auto shop but the starter really is shot. The tape will only delaying the inevitable. I’d bet money the alternator is going too, from the sound of it.” The sheriff wiped a hand over his face. His dad didn’t have money to lay down on his Jeep. “I could fix that. Make sure those are the only things.”

The sheriff frowned. “You repair cars?”

“Usually just that thing.” Derek motioned to the Camaro. “It was my sister’s and she had no clue how to fix it… She broke it a lot. Once it had the whole engine ripped out. That’s kind of hard to explain to a mechanic.” He shrugged. “I’m good with my hands.”

“That’s nice kid but I don’t have the money for—“

“Don’t worry about it.” This Mirror verse never ceased to amaze Stiles.

“But—“

“Too late.” Derek got behind the wheel. “Taking it to the house before she stops running.” Sheriff tried to stop him but Derek was already pulling out of the drive. Stiles stood in his front yard, completely dumbfounded. Life after his death only got stranger and stranger. Once he recovered, Stiles popped into his passenger’s seat.

“What the hell? Did you just jack my car from my dad? My dad, the sheriff?” For a second Derek looked like he’d been struck by a bat and Stiles looked around.  “Derek?” The alpha let out a shaky breath as they drove, and as always, didn’t reply. This was above and beyond the call of duty and it was probably all stemming from Derek’s deep seeded guilt at existing but still. “I wish I could thank you,” Stiles whispered.

The corners of Derek’s mouth twitched as he huffed out a soft laugh. The Jeep made it to the road leading up to the Hale house before it died again. At that point Derek let out a soft howl and Boyd showed up a minute later.

Stiles didn’t understand how howling really worked but apparently that one was, ‘I need assistance but not everyone’. It caught him off guard when Derek took off his shirt.

“Oh wow…” Lately Stiles had been good about not ogling the werewolves he was surrounded with despite that they were all ripped and gorgeous. “Jesus, it’s like you’re sculpted from marble. It’s not even fair.”

Stiles was probably imagining the slight extra flex Derek did before he started to push the jeep up the road while Boyd steered in the front seat. They got it up to the house without any problems. Derek must have sent out a text or the howl had a double meaning or something because Isaac showed up a minute or two later with the Camaro.

Erica snickered. “You gonna try and resurrect that thing? That’s adorable.” Derek glared at her. “So what did the good doctor say about our thing in the river?”

“Probably a kelpie.”

Erica threw a fist into the air. “Oh yeah! I get whatever food I want. Gonna order a ton of sushi.” Boyd shook his head. The blonde could eat her weight in sushi and Stiles' pockets hurt just thinking about it.

“Now do any of you three know anything about cars?” Isaac and Erica raised their hands. “Do you know anything about tools used to fix cars?” Isaac’s hand lowered. “Okay, first step is getting this old girl lifted so I can see what I’m doing underneath it. I need to see what parts I need to order. Erica, you’re going to help me make a list. Isaac, take Boyd and get my tools from the loft. They should be in the back of the closet. You’ll be passing close to the river and I don’t need another of the pack disappearing, got it?”

His betas nodded.

“Good.”

 

Stiles almost couldn’t look away as Derek started taking his Jeep apart. It looked like he had dismantled the entire engine by the time he was done. There were a few problems; alternator, starter, suspension, tires, a fuel line, the clutch.

Stiles was nearly crying, seeing his baby strewn about the Hale lawn.

“You’re evil. You’re soooooo evil,” Stiles whispered. But Derek was now on his laptop, looking through Erica’s list. She was watching the computer screen with growing concern.

“Does he really need a lift kit?”

It was at ‘lift kit’ that Stiles finally stopped mourning and looked at the werewolves more closely. “Do you know how much those cost?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged. “When I put the new tires on it he will.”

Erica laughed. “You should just buy him a new car at this rate.”

“Can’t you smell it?”

The look of skepticism was a bit harsh on the blonde’s face. But after a second she took a whiff. “It just smells like Stiles to me.”

He sighed. “What do you feel though?”

Erica’s bitch face was kind of priceless. “Hungry. It reeks of curly fries.”

The put upon sigh Derek let out reminded Stiles of Coach Finstock when he remembered Greenberg existed. “It doesn’t just smell like Stiles, it’s infused with Stiles. Someone else could buy it and own it and even after a year it would still smell more like Stiles.”

“Gross.”

Derek ignored her. “That comes from not just physical proximity. It smells like attachment. And something else. What is that?”

Erica took another deep breath and Derek watched her carefully. It was all very Yoda and Luke. “Is it…another scent? Under Stiles’… A woman.”  Stiles felt his stomach bottom out. “Oh.”

“The Camaro is the same way. Underneath all the… me, there is Laura.”

They sat in silence while Derek continued to shop for parts. Stiles throat felt like it was swollen shut. Luckily, he didn’t have to breathe. What was Derek’s end game? What was he playing at? Hoping that if Stiles got home he’d be okay with joining the pack? Because Derek took care of the pack and Scott and his dad and now his Jeep? Because he respected the memory of Stiles’ mom?

Because it was totally working. The joke was on Derek anyway. He had already been up for joining.

“You are such a moron. My loyalty doesn’t need to be bought. If this is too assuage some guilt then don’t use me and my Jeep.”

 “Why are you doing all this?” Erica asked, and Stiles was really curious to hear the answer.

Derek smirked. “Because Stiles isn’t around to tell me I can’t. Or I shouldn’t. He’s helped the pack so many times, when he’s just some high school kid. He didn’t even like me and he treaded water for three hours while I was paralyzed from the neck down.”

“That’s just Stiles' way.”

“He’s saved all of us at one point.”

Erica laughed. “He also got you arrested for murder.”

Derek shrugged. “What can I say? I’m suspicious.”

Stiles laughed a little harder then he should have at that but he was emotionally compromised. The problem with Derek’s joking voice is it sounded just like his normal one, so Erica took a minute to join him in laughing. “You _are_ though. I mean you _really_ are.”

When he finally caught his breath Stiles grinned. “Well, sour wolf, if you smiled and used your words more often that wouldn’t...”The sentence died in his mouth as Derek’s mouth stretched into a full blown smile.  It crinkled his eyes and showed off the dimples that Stiles had only see glimpses of, a true smile like he had never seen Derek make before. There wasn’t the cockiness like when he sped off in the Camaro after picking Erica up, or the fake flirtation he gave to the woman at the police station. Stiles had the sudden urge to reach out and touch it, make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

If Derek smiled like that forever Stiles wouldn’t mind being a ghost.

It was too much. The salad, the Jeep parts, the smile? It was all overwhelming, making Stiles’ chest tighten.

Oh damn.

Feelings had never been Stiles’ strong suit. So, when faced with the ones currently rolling around inside him, he did the only thing he could think to do.

He ran.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg finally. am i right?

Stiles ended up in his room. His first instinct had been to actually run away. But he hadn’t gotten far when that nagging feeling hit him. Like he shouldn’t stray too far from the house or Derek and Stiles wasn’t having that, so instead he teleported to his room. It was safe; no one had set foot in it but his dad since he had disappeared.

His heart finally stopped skipping. It was weird, still feeling some of the physical reactions without having a physical body.

So… he kind of had some sort of weird crush on Derek.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking but this was a terrible idea. Derek had the emotional availability of toaster.

Okay, maybe a grumpy, sentient toaster but a toaster nonetheless.

He suddenly really wished he could talk to Scott. Scott owed him big in the feelings department and he needed guidance because no. He just didn’t want this. This wasn’t what Stiles signed up for. It was one thing when Derek was just some creeper in the woods, or when he’d been a complete dick about his new alpha hood. It was a different monster now that Stiles was starting to see the true Derek.

Stiles wanted it on the record that this wasn’t about the _guy_ thing. He wasn’t going into gay panic. Sure it was new but Stiles wasn’t so uncomfortable in his own skin that he couldn’t entertain the idea. And it wasn’t Lydia. He’d accepted a little while back that she was a goddess among mortals. Like Athena or Artemis or Kali. He had a mighty respect for her, which meant respecting her right to choose—not just choose Jackson but choose anything. That said it was pretty obvious who she wanted and while he _loved_ Lydia, he couldn’t go on _being in_ _love_ with Lydia. So he’d let that go.

It was just that this was Derek; emotionally stunted, never uses his words, probably straight, several years older than him, been a fugitive of the law and, oh yeah, hated him just a short time ago _Derek_.

Not that long ago, Derek scared him. Then again, he’d only just started to get to know Derek and now Stiles was following _him_ around like a creeper. Admittedly, his feelings about Derek were always kind of messy, but this?  He was stuck with a new scary feeling in his chest that hadn’t died down, even though he had been pacing his room for an unmeasurable amount of time.

Derek’s face all happy and laughing was scorched into his brain.  The alpha was trying to do right by them, by the pack, by Stiles’ _dad_. And Stiles had to go get his feelings all over it.

“Why couldn’t I have developed a crush on someone—anyone else in our ragtag bunch? I’d have taken a weird Three’s Company with Boyd and Erica!”

The sun was going down and Stiles groaned. He could just stay in his room the rest of eternity, but he kind of wanted to shadow the hunt for the kelpie. His room was safe, but his unnatural draw toward the weird and dangerous was pulling at him to join the group on their hunt. It wasn’t like he’d be in the way. And he hadn’t actually gotten to see the kelpie last time.

“I hate my death,” he mumbled, gearing himself up to face the music. What was he so worried about if he was dead? It wasn’t like anything would come of it anyway. This wasn’t _Being Human._ He couldn’t even talk to anyone let alone accidentally reveal his crush on Derek.

Taking a deep breath he focused on Scott. When Stiles appeared, Scott was staring quizzically at the Jeep in Derek’s yard. The hood was now shut and the parts that had been laid out were off to the side and covered by a tarp.

“I know. My sweetheart is in pieces, bro. He’s so lucky I’m not solid or visible…” Stiles turned when he heard steps on the porch. Derek was all leather jacketed up and walking toward them with his usual alpha swag on. “It also helps that he’s pretty.” It was true.

Scott looked amused. “Am I the only one who doesn’t own a leather jacket?”

“Jackson won’t wear one.” Derek paused before his eyebrow twitched. “Do you want one?”

A snort escaped Scott before he could stop it. “Oh my gosh, your super-secret werewolf club has _matching jackets_.”

“I have an old one you’d probably fit into. “ Derek shrugged, completely ignoring that he was being mocked. “Me and Laura always ran with leather jackets.” He sounded wistful and he had these big sad puppy dog eyes going on.

Stiles turned and saw that look on Scott’s face. Suddenly, all his dread over his big stupid crush faded because Scott was totally about to cave and take the jacket, because Scott was weak in the face of a pouting Derek Hale and it was kind of hilarious. It made Stiles feel better to know he wasn’t the only one with a soft spot. “Sure. Why not?”

Derek did his equivalent of beaming, which was nodding with a less grumpy look on his face.

Stiles took a moment to realize that Derek had mentioned Laura twice now and hadn’t withdrawn into himself like a human turtle… werewolf turtle? Whatever, Stiles was totally calling it progress.

There was really no use dwelling on his feelings too long. He was probably dead. No one ever had to know. He should take the opportunity to moon over Derek as much as possible before he went into the great beyond… or whatever.

Because why not? No one had to know and it was just a crush. Wasn’t like he had a ten year plan to woo the man or anything.

Though if he did it would probably start somewhere around cheese roll ups from Taco Bell and end somewhere around a ritual that bound him to the pack for the rest of his life—which gets Derek all hot and bothered for him because _pack_.

Not that he was planning it. He didn’t have ten years. Or any years. But if he _were_ …

The others arrived in waves; first Allison and Lydia in her SUV, then Jackson on foot. Last were Boyd and Erica, also walking but looking slightly disheveled but ready. All the werewolves kind of made a face at the pair. Isaac emerged from the house with Peter. Now there was a scary combination. They all formed a semi-circle around Derek near where he had walked out to meet Scott by the Jeep.

“What’s the plan, hot shot?” Peter asked as he perched himself on the hood of the Jeep. Derek shot him a murderous look and Peter slid off it, looking annoyed.

“The plan is to break into teams, three of two and one of three—“

Isaac raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Why one of three?”

Derek sighed. He held up his hand and used them to display the numbers he said next. “Two sides, two directions. Four teams. It’ll cover the most ground.”

“Oh.” Isaac lowered his hand. “That’s smart.”

“Well, I try.” Derek rolled his shoulders. “Jackson and Lydia are with me—“

Jackson frowned from where he stood next to Lydia. “Why are we—“

“Because Lydia isn’t a fighter… not yet anyway.” That had Lydia breaking out into an evil grin. Lydia weaponized sounded like a bad idea… or the best idea. The jury was still out on that one.  Derek glared at Jackson. “Her brains will more than make up for your lack of them.” Scott covered a laugh by coughing. Isaac didn’t bother. “Two guesses how the other groups are going to be paired up.”

Isaac stopped laughing. He gave a quick look around the group, counting under his breath before he groaned. “Wait, why do I get the creepy uncle?”

“Get a significant other who can handle themselves in a fight and you’d get paired up with them too. Or, if you want, see if anyone is willing to trade.” The couples all held hands tightly and Isaac sighed. Derek turned to Allison. “What did Chris say about the situation?”

Everyone mimicked Derek’s turn to her and Allison shrugged. “He’d been a bit distracted by the outright murder to look into the disappearances but it all fits a kelpie's m.o. He would help, but too large a group will scare it off and his hunters really aren’t…. well equipped to fight off a kelpie. They mess with your mind. What he did know is that they don’t get pregnant the way horses do, they don’t have gender and they’re a spirit of sorts. They kind of just… spawn another them without any outside help.” The weird hand gesture she made at the word ‘spawn’ made Stiles and Scott snicker. It was good to know that even when Scott couldn’t see or hear him, they were still on the same page.

Derek nodded. “Alright, but did he tell you how to kill it?”

Allison shrugged again. “No one has ever managed to kill one that he knows of. If it bleeds, he says it’ll probably die like anything else.”

The alpha took a deep breath. There was the grumpy gills Stiles knew. “Probably?... Alright then. If you see it, signal the pack and then attack. I don’t care if you text or howl or call or smoke signal, but don’t go in without telling the rest of us.” He looked around at his betas plus two. “Understood?”

“Perfectly.” Peter grinned. “It’s like you were speaking English for once, instead of grunting and banging your chest.” This time, everyone glared at Peter. “Ugh, you are all so boring. Can’t have any fun with you.”

“Boyd, Erica, Allison and Scott take the east bank; the rest of us will take the west. Completely up to you which directions you take. Time to move out.”

They consolidated cars, taking the SUV and the Camaro. Peter very immaturely called shotgun but no one wanted to be squished in the back of Derek’s car with him anyway, especially not Lydia.

While technically Stiles was transparent, it felt weird to ride along in the full Camaro. Instead, he hitched in Allison’s much roomier ride. They were all a little too quiet for Stiles’ liking but at least he wasn’t in the same car with Peter, who was probably being wildly inappropriate and annoying, and not in the fun way that Stiles was.

They parked a little ways from the river meeting up briefly to double check everyone had a charged cellphone, the correct numbers and set a time to meet back, and to set up hourly check-ins with Derek. The alpha seemed content with his plan, and frankly so was Stiles. This was probably the most thought out Derek had gotten with a plan.

They all seemed to silently agreed walking would be the best strategy. It was quieter, easier to focus and see what was going on, and just an overall better strategy. Stiles initially thought of following Scott and Allison but when he went to follow them he kept looking back at Derek’s retreating form.

“God damn it. Be safe, Scotty.” Then he turned around and followed the party of three north along the river.

At first they were pretty quiet - Jackson and Derek at each of Lydia’s shoulders.

They walked along the bank silently, eyes on the water the whole time.  Sometimes, Derek had them stop and wait while he used his werewolf voodoo to determine if the kelpie was nearby. Half an hour passed and no one signaled. As they walked farther, Lydia kept giving Jackson this look and he just kept ignoring it. Then he sighed. “I’m gonna scout ahead a little alright? Not far. You should still be able to hear me.”

Derek opened his mouth to protest but Jackson was already jogging ahead. That left Derek and Lydia alone. “So, Derek.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I can sense dead people.”

Derek stopped and so did Stiles. Stiles flailed. “You think you can what?!”

“What?”

Lydia shrugged. “Or maybe it’s sensing death in general. I’m not sure how it works but yeah. It’s like this vague feeling. Sometimes I want to scream and others I just… sigh loudly. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.” She kept walking and Derek jogged a little to keep up. “I didn’t want to tell the others, it sounds crazy—“

“Lydia. I’m a _werewolf_.”

She nodded. “I’m aware, and I’m dating one and my best friend is from a long line of hunters. Stiles was abducted by fairies. Forgive me if I draw the line at medium or whatever.”

Derek shrugged. “You’re probably a banshee.”

Lydia didn’t seem to appreciate that. “Thanks a lot.”

The alpha shook his head. “No, I heard my mom talk about them once. Their screams are insanely loud, and can be heard for miles. They can hear death or something? Can sense it somehow, as well as spirits lingering in this world. They don’t just bend magic, they make it.”

Lydia looked to be checking things off a mental list. “Alright, if that’s true then it’s my responsibility to inform you that you’ve been acting super weird in both good and concerning ways and you have this weird general aura that feels _off_. The pack doesn’t want to jinx it by saying anything.”

Derek frowned. “Thanks?”

“Well if you’re going to give me hope that it isn’t just me being crazy, then expect me to share.”

“What do you mean by off?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Her eyes held a challenge. She knew something Stiles obviously didn't. But before Derek could cave, as most do under the scrutiny of Lydia Martin, Jackson literally roared off in the distance and there was a loud female scream. Derek and Lydia ran ahead to find Jackson pulling a young dark skinned girl out of the water and just out of reach of a white shimmering horse. Derek growled, leaping for it and Stiles’ heart pounded in his ears. It all went in fast forward. They tumbled into the water and the horse’s eye glowed a muted green. It lashed out and snapped at Derek with needle like fangs and Derek slashed its hind quarts before it suddenly burst into millions of droplets of water, escaping. The kid was clutching Jackson like he was a buoy on the water and she had been swimming for days. Her eyes were squeezed tight. Stiles could see a chunk of her braids were missing.

Derek came over, far less wolfed out, and knelt to be more her height. “You okay?” The girl peeled her eyes open and nodded. That’s when Stiles noticed Janine. She was lying still on in the grass a few yards away. After a moment she shifted, rubbing her head. The little girl ran over to her, latched around Janine, and that’s when Stiles remembered. Kiki. Janine’s little sister. They all stood around awkwardly for a moment. Janine kept eyeing Jackson like she’d never seen him before, even though they’d been in several classes together. Maybe it was more like she was reassessing what she thought she knew about him.

“What the hell was that thing?” Janine finally asked. “What the hell are you, Whitmore? What the actual fuck just happened?”

Lydia crouched next to her. “Are you alright?”

“Lydia?” Janine must not have realized the red head had been there. “I—I’m fine. Kiki—”

“I’m okay.” Kiki mumbled. Jackson was standing where the little girl had left him. He shifted from foot to foot, as Kiki turned to look at them. “Are you guys aliens?”

Jackson snorted. “No.”

Janine got to her feet, picking Kiki up. “I think you need to tell me what just nearly killed me. I think that needs to happen like, right now, or I’m calling the cops on all of you, saved my life or not.” She was trying her damnedest to sound brave. Derek laughed a little. “Think that’s funny? Try me, Fonz.” She whipped out her phone.

Lydia moved forward to snatch it from her but she held it out of her reach. Derek scratched his head, looking like he was holding back annoyance and failing. “What were you even doing out here?”

Janine frowned deeply. “Kiki ran off. She had made a bracelet for… for Em and they didn’t find it. She snuck out to look for it when my parents went to sleep to see if it washed up nearby.” Janine glared at Kiki. “Because she doesn’t think things through. But I get this feeling you’re not gonna answer me. Why did Jackson go all call of the wild? And who are you? What the hell are YOU doing here?”

Lydia opened her mouth but before she came up with a response, Derek shrugged. “I’m Derek. We were hunting the thing that attacked you.”

Lydia glared daggers at him, but she continued for him. “Its… what do you know about kelpies.”

It took Lydia a few minutes to explain about the disappearances. Janine kept interrupting with questions; how they connected the dots, how they could make these grand assumptions, etc. Stiles thought the questions were intelligent but Lydia hated being interrupted. During the explanation, Jackson had texted the others, letting them know the fight was over and to go home. Lydia did most of the initial talking because Janine knew her but Derek interjected bits he felt important. They had sat down pretty much were they were. Eventually Kiki fell asleep, head on Janine’s thigh for a pillow. The others had remained silent, unsure what to do and how to proceed.

Janine looked shell shocked. “And you think that monster killed Em?”

Derek nodded.

“But since she was sick… it decided not to eat her?” She looked about to throw up. Derek nodded. Tears swelled in her eyes and she looked away. “Em’s death wasn’t an accident?”

Derek winced and shifted where he sat. “We don’t think so.”

Janine gestured to all of them. “And you’re all werewolves?”

 Lydia crossed her arms, looking mildly indignant. “I’m not a werewolf. Have you seen how hairy they get?”

Janine put her head in her hands.

Derek was trying his best to sound sympathetic, which wasn’t his usual style. “I know this is a lot to take in—”

“My girlfriend was killed and then left to rot because her meat wasn’t _good enough_. Fuck you. Of course it’s a lot.” Janine rested a hand on her sister’s head, playing with one of the braids. So Emily and her WERE a thing. No one else acted surprised. Stiles felt like he missed a group memo. “You’re going to kill it, right?”

“Yes,” Derek answered. He definitely sounded sure of that.

She looked up, meeting Derek’s eyes with a look that could melt steel. “I want to help.”

Derek sighed. “I don’t think—”

“No.” Janine cut him off, sitting up straight. “I lost Emily; it almost just took my sister. I. Want. To. Help.” There was an unshaking resolve in her voice that Stiles envied. She was just a normal teenager.

Derek nodded. “We’ll try. But it’s not easy to kill, and I won’t put you in more danger then necessary.”

She sighed, looking back down at her sister. Lydia reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Janine shook her head. “No. I think this is better. I feel better. Knowing it wasn’t just a misstep or… Just get that bastard, alright? If there is anything I can do. Even if it’s hold the flashlight.” Then Janine looked at Lydia again, searching her face for some kind of answer. “Is that what got Stiles?”

They all went silent. After a painfully heavy pause, Derek was the first to answer. “No. That was the fairies.”

Janine let out a broken, almost manic laugh. “There are fairies? What is wrong with this town?”

Jackson snorted. Stiles did too. It was true. There was something severely wrong with Beacon Hills. It was like a magnet for all the weird supernatural shit in southern California… Like a BEACON.

Stiles groaned as they headed back for the cars. “Motherfuckers knew this place was jinxed and they still decided to live here.”

Derek dropped Janine off first, then Jackson and Lydia at her house. Stiles figured he should head home too. It felt like a breech in privacy, following Derek without his consent—which was funny because before the stupid ‘I’ve got a crush on the sour wolf’ debacle he wouldn’t have batted an eye. But Stiles couldn’t bring himself to go. Derek looked so lost. From what Stiles had watched, killing the kelpie would be harder than they’d originally thought.

The alpha looked run ragged. “You’re no good to anyone sleep deprived," Stiles scolded aloud, knowing he wouldn't be heard, but feeling the need to say it anyway. Just so he could later say he warned Derek.

Suddenly they pulled into a parking spot and Stiles looked around. This was his neighborhood. “What are you doing?” Derek however had already left the car and was making his way down the street, constantly looking around in case he was spotted. Stiles followed. “You don’t have to be sneaky. People aren’t gonna question about you talking to my dad or anything.”

His dad’s squad car wasn’t in the drive way but Derek kept walking toward the Stilinski residence. “Are you breaking into my house? The sheriff’s house?” But Derek had already disappeared up the tree in his yard and through his window. Stiles sighed and poofed into his room, really wishing he could bitch at Derek about personal space. Clearly, no place was sacred.  Derek kind of just stood awkwardly in the middle of everything, looking around, not touching anything. He'd had been there tons of times, so really he had no reason to look so uneasy there.

Derek eventually seemed to bore of creepily standing in the middle of his room and began aimlessly leafing through the papers on Stiles’ desk. It was the research for the spell they used during the ritual to mend the rift between the fairy world and theirs. He wondered to Stiles’ shelves, which he’d never shown an interest in before that moment. He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, the edge of his chess set, all of Stiles things. Literally. ALL OF HIS THINGS.

That was totally normal. No big deal. Stiles wasn’t freaking out or anything. “Why do you have to touch my stuff? Like what is wrong with you?” Derek picked up the picture of Stiles and his mom. “Put that back right now. We’ve been over this personal space thing. Boundaries.”

Derek put the frame back on the shelf in Stiles headboard where it belonged before letting out a low and tired breath. He stood there at the edge of the bed, thigh touching the mattress. After a moment the werewolf sat on the edge of it, the tension in his frame visibly uncoiling for several silent moments—the longest minutes of Stiles life. It was lucky Stiles didn’t have to breathe because he was sure he would have stopped and passed out by the time Derek moved. Derek eventually straightened, although rigidly, as if his mind were made up but he wasn’t happy about it. Toeing off his shoes, he laid on Stiles bed.

“Derek.”

The alpha closed his eyes and in only a few heartbeats his breaths went shallow with sleep.

In his bed.

A rush of emotions hit him at the thought before he blanked completely. “Oh God.”

Derek shifted in his sleep, tucking his arm around Stiles’ pillow.

His PILLOW.

“I’m most definitely dead. I went straight to hell and this is my punishment. I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t deserve this at all."


	10. Chapter 10

_Stiles couldn’t move. He tried moving a bit at a time. A toe. A finger. His eyelids. But nothing budged. He felt heavy. Tired. Like he was weighted down by something huge. He was warm, like he was snug in bed at home. The darkness around him was comforting and calm._

_“Have faith, young one.” The voice that called to him softly sounded close. It was sweet and light, like a cool wind._

What? _Stiles tried to say. But words didn’t come out.  Everything remained dark._

_“Hold fast to the ties that bind you.”_

Who are you?

_The voice went on like it didn’t hear him. “Hold fast to the anchors that ground you.”_

I don’t understand.

_“You must awaken now. Your wolf needs you.”_

Stiles eyes flew open and he looked around, breathing heavily even though he didn’t need air. He had laid on the bed next to Derek and watched him sleep for what felt like hours. He must have drifted off too at some point. Derek still slept soundly, cuddling Stiles’ pillow shamelessly. Someone had thrown an afghan over the sleeping werewolf which let Stiles know that not only had his dad been home but he had witnessed this phenomenon and had done nothing.

At least Stiles knew his dream world was safe again… Sort of. Like if televising weird cryptic messages to him and being unable to move could be considered safe. It was at least a lot less painful than before. Upon reflection, the voice had been a woman. One he’d never heard before.

“Hold to the ties that bind… Since when is being tied down a good thing?” Then again, it was probably his attachment to the living that was keeping him around—unfinished business and what not.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Derek awoke slowly and sat up. His usually styled hair sticking out at funny angles and Stiles snorted. The door opened to find the sheriff still in uniform. “Hey, breakfast is on the table if you’re hungry.”

Derek frowned. “I really shouldn't—”

John shut him down. “If you’re hungry you should eat.” As if on cue, Derek’s stomach made a loud grumbling noise. “Come on.”

Derek followed without further protest to the kitchen.

 

“Again.” Derek called from under the hood of the Jeep. Erica turned the key from the passenger’s seat. The engine turned over but it didn’t catch.

Stiles sat by the side lines, watching Derek’s back flex and relax with each movement as the werewolf adjusted the engine. He hadn’t been able to stop watching Derek since the night before. It was going on twelve hours now and he’d followed the alpha around Beacon Hills as he ran errands; getting coffee, collecting the parts he needed, meeting the pack at the Hale home.

Stiles thought he’d be tired of it by noon but he still hadn’t figured Derek out.

Stiles’ dad had gone to bed immediately after breakfast and Derek left shortly after. Apparently, the last bits Derek needed for the Jeep came in.

So now, a few hours and a lot of elbow grease later, Derek had the Jeep all put back together.

Derek finished fiddling with whatever he was fiddling with and closed the hood. “There. That should do it.”

Erica turned the key and the engine roared to life. It was the most beautiful sound that Stiles had ever heard. He got up and walked around the car, stunned. “You did it. You actually fixed it! And I wasn’t sure about the lift kit before but Christ on toast.” Stiles went up and tried to slap Derek on the back but his hand went right through Derek. “Well, whatever, I hope you got the point.”

Erica climbed out. “She’s purring like a kitten.”

“You made an excellent partner in crime.”

She shrugged, grinning. “The whole werewolf thing doesn’t work out, we can open a shop. Call it ‘Moon Over My Hemi’. “

Derek chuckled. “I’m not exactly strapped for cash.”

Erica huffed. “Well not all of us can afford to pimp our packmates rides. Girl’s gotta eat.”

“I’m taking her out for a spin.” Derek said, climbing up into the driver’s seat. “Gonna put her through her paces.”

Erica waved as he drove off. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Stiles popped into the passenger’s seat. “This isn’t the way to the road.”

Derek, as always ignored him, electing to continue driving off into the woods. Eventually, they made it to a large, flat clearing. It was mostly dirt with some grassy areas here and there. Derek stopped on the edge of the open area and looked around, keeping his face blank as he revved the engine and Stiles cringed.  “What are you doing?”

The werewolf put on his seatbelt and braced himself.

“Derek— dear, sweet, wonderful Derbear. Tell me you didn’t fix my Jeep just to run it into a tree.”

Without changing his expression, Derek put the jeep in drive and took off full speed. The engine roared like a monster let loose.

“Derek! Please, just this once—for me—hear me and stop this! I know we weren’t exactly friends but come on! I love this Jeep!”

Suddenly Derek let out a long loud cackle as he spun the wheel left, causing the car to slide right and kicking up a cloud of dirt. After that he splashed through some mud, causing it to splatter all over the place.

“If I weren’t dead, I would kill you right now.”

Dirt went flying as the alpha did the wheel thing again on dry land in the other direction. “Come, on. Let’s show him what you’ve got,” he whispered. Stiles stared at him. He’d had said ‘him’—not me or them but him…

“What the hell?”

 Derek did a few doughnuts in the dirt and a few more sharp turns before he slowed down to a crawl, and stopped, breathing heavy from laughing so hard. The Jeep was nearly silent, the low  hum of the engine nearly drowned out by Derek’s heavy breathing. It was a miracle that his Jeep hadn’t flipped over. Stiles had been shocked into a strange numbness.

“Damn it,” Derek whispered. “I thought I had you there for a second.”

It took a second for Stiles too understand. “You know I’m here.

When Derek didn’t react Stiles knew he didn’t hear him. The disappointment didn’t return though. “Could’ve sworn….” Stiles felt the pang of guilt, then the embarrassment. A deep chuckle escaped Derek and he sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” Derek pressed his head to the steering wheel. “This is where I feel you the most. You poured everything you are into this Jeep. If I close my eyes it’s almost liked you’re next to me.”

“But I am next to you.” Stiles shifted in his seat. This sounded too much like praying for his liking.

“How could I not take care of it?” Derek huffed. “Like he can hear me anyway,” he whispered, turning the Jeep back on and heading out of the clearing.

Stiles chuckled. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

 


End file.
